In My Dreams

My mother died on her 38thbirthday because of a “non-specific mylocardiopathy.” That is what it says on her death certificate, translated years later by my shrink – a blood clot to the heart. Twenty-two years later I personally figured out what had happened. Like my mother I had a hysterectomy at an early age and was given hormone replacement therapy. Unlike my mother I survived the blood clot. We have “sticky” blood and form blood clots when give hormones therapy or birth control pills.  I never felt guilty about surviving because the technology was not there when she died. They did not find out about the causes of clots until many years after she died.  I feel that somehow I have something left to do and that is why I am still here.

My mother visits me in my dreams. Whether it is just my dreams or real doesn’t matter to me.  A couple of months after my mother had passed, I had such a vivid dream of being at my grandmother’s house sitting on one the guest beds next to my grandmother and my mother was sitting on the other bed. We were talking about everything that had happened since she had been gone. We talked about the baby I was carrying and how my brother and sister were coping with her being gone. The next morning when I woke up I felt so peaceful and a little sad because it had been just a dream.  The phone rang and it was grandma calling to say she had had the oddest dream about mom and me.

I cherish my children, although they are adults now, they will forever be my children and I will always love them no matter what.  My love for them is not in a controlling manner, it is just me being their biggest fan. 

Sixteen years ago I “dropped my basket” so to speak. I was full of rage, so very angry and didn’t know didn’t understand. I made arrangements for their father to come and stay with them so I could get help.  Seems my anger was at me for having met someone wonderful who took care of me and that my mother never had anyone as wonderful as I did. The doctors called it a chemical imbalance so I will be on meds for the rest of my life. The doctor seemed surprised that I hadn’t try to harm myself – my response was simple, “my kids would never forgive me.”

I have noticed that I seem to find and befriend other women whose mothers have died when they were young. I guess there is an aura around us and we can seek each other out, to comfort one another. I understand there was a book written about why we feel, behave, react as we do. One day I hope to find that book. 
terrilynn terrilynn
1 Response Aug 5, 2010

Hope Edelman books "Motherless Daughters" and "Motherless Mothers"