We had a lovely Easter today. Cute Husband put together a great Easter basket for The Boy, complete with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle stuff and some of the requisite Easter goodies. I took a nap a few hours after lunch because I wasn’t feeling well, but it was a good thing I did because that was where I received my Easter gift.
It’s been five years, two months, and a week since I last spoke with my mother. I can’t believe it’s been 5 years, but it also seems much longer than that at times.
I dream about my mom sometimes. After she died, it was more frequent, but now they are fewer and further between. Today, though, I had the chance to speak to her for the first time in at least a few months.
“What’s happening?” she asked. “How is your book coming along?”
“Ugh,” I sighed. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed. There’s a lot to do and I just want to get everything exactly right before Julia goes to this conference next month.” And I went on to explain the emails my agent and I had exchanged yesterday.
“You’ll get there,” she assured me. “Just stay focused.”
At this point, she’s a figment of my imagination, and I get that. My dreams are my memories and imagination working together to produce scenes and images that speak to my subconscious.
And while I know that, I don’t really care. It was my mom, and I got to talk to her for a while and share all my insecurities, just as I would have if she was still here.
Imaginary or not, that was the greatest gift of all.