A week ago mom was having an unusually talkative day. When I first saw mom she said, “I think . . . you all the time, when I see you . . . I’m depressed.”
“Why do you become depressed when you see me?”
“I wish . . . do something for me.”
I knew what mom was referring to again. She believes I have the power to ask someone to give her a drug so she could go to bed peacefully and not wake up. No matter how many times I talk to her about God’s timing; she has her own belief.
Then mom told me something else that was troubling and depressing her.
“Julienne, when I’m sleeping . . . I keep calling your name.”
“Mom, what else is happening in your dream? Do you need my help?”
“Julienne, you said . . . dad would come . . . for me.”
“Mom, I was telling you about when dad passed his mom came to meet him. Remember I mentioned that dad called her name and then he passed away.”
Mom became extremely anxious, “I see your face. I . . . am calling you, Julienne.”
“Mom, that’s OK. Maybe you are just thinking about me before you go to sleep.”
“Are you OK, Julienne?”
“Mom, I am feeling great; honestly I am.”
“When I see your face . . . shake my head . . . squeeze my eyes . . . say ‘NO’!
“What happens then, mom?”
“You . . . go away.”
“Mom, do not be scared if you dream about me. Don’t wish me away. I am there to love you and reassure you; I’m not there to take you to heaven.”
I tried to comfort mom, but I think her dreams of me were anything but comforting. She let me know several times during our visit that although she is ready to go, she does not want me to go with her or before her. And I’m good with that. After all, God’s definitely not finished with me.