💫On joy and pain
Both can exist during the holidays
Trigger warning: storytelling that expresses grief
Last night, I dreamt of my mother. Within the folds of my dream, my neighbors decided to throw an unauthorized Christmas party in my house. When I pulled up in my car, there were people taking pictures in front of our home as well as inside of it. To my shock and dismay, these people were truly living their best lives on our territory. The house was beautifully and ornately decorated with Christmas lights and signs and strangers and people from my past and present were within the massive space.
Now our house in real life is large, but in my dream it was enormous, almost cavernous. Once inside, I expressed my displeasure at the unauthorized party to someone who seemed to be in charge, but I then became distracted and started talking to a few ladies that I went to occupational therapy school with. Clearly, I wasn’t that upset about the party.
It was then, mid conversation with old friends, that I noticed her, I felt her. My mother. Watching me from a distance, she was there amongst the crowd, her dark brown eyes fixated on me. Her gaze, was silent and unflinching. Her beautiful dark brown skin smooth and unlined. She stood there in the crowded room, healthy, smaller than I remember, perhaps 5’6. The same height of her mother, my grandmother as I remember her. When she was alive, my beautiful mother stood at a regal 5’11. Although she was smaller in my dream, she was no less regal. She appeared as I imagine she would look now, at 68 years of age.
Even in my dream, I knew this was a visit. Surrounded by so many people, she seemed set apart. She only came to my attention in the dream because I got that feeling that you get when someone is watching you. I felt her gaze and slowly turned my head. Locking eyes, I crossed the room as soon as I noticed her. I didn't waste a fraction of a second. Once I reached my mother, I hugged her tightly, gently grasped both sides of her face, kissed her cheeks and said “thank you for visiting me”. In response, my beautiful mother said , “Oh Stephanie this was nothing, after all that you've done for me…” She said that gently, earnestly, without a smile. It was as if the additional effort of a smile was somehow limited by time or space. Restricted by some act of spiritual physics, a line that defined what she was and a line that could not be crossed. But her words and the breathiness of her response said so much. She was here in earnest and in love.
After her response, the dream literally melted away. I’ve never transitioned from a dream in that way. Literally, like paint pouring from a bucket, I found myself poured back into our queen sized bed in the guest bedroom where I had not long before fallen asleep.
The whole experience of that dream felt odd, but what has continued to reverberate in my head has been my mother’s comment that her visiting me was “nothing” after all that I had done for her. Perhaps I’m overthinking this dream, but I can’t think of anything in particular that I’ve done for my mother, outside of loving her.
But maybe that’s enough, I loved my mother wholeheartedly. Renee. It feels so good to say her name . Renee. I’m still in awe of her strength, resilience, compassion, joy and humanity. She was a true Chayil Mom … a Proverbs 31 woman. She would move Heaven and Earth for her children. Would go to war for her family and friends. And daily, in small, not insignificant ways, while my siblings and I were growing up - she did.
I don’t know how she did it, but she did. Commuting hours daily, working full time, being a devoted wife and mother in New York City, getting dinner on the table every night, keeping a tidy home with 3 kids and a husband, but she did it. By God’s grace and the determination of a true mother, she did it.
Over these past few days, I’ve been missing my mom something awful. Been wanting to go home to see my Dad… Perhaps that dream was a gift, a reminder that a mother’s love never dies, perhaps for those few sweet moments my mom did move Heaven and Earth just to see me. I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. My mother was one heck of a woman .
I share this dream because I want to remember it, I want to archive it. In this season of gratitude and of lights, I want to remember and feel and be present for both the joys and pain that the Winter / Christmas holidays can bring. There are also a few more moments that I want to archive here. For reflection at a later date. Beautiful, simple moments that took my breath away this week.
The sun filtering through the blinds when I woke up this morning.
Lunch with my husband, while the children played in Chic-Fil-A’s play area.
Assembling gingerbread houses with the kids.
Afternoon naps with our youngest
The sunsets and the mountains, listening to our children belt out Christmas songs at the tops of their lungs while we drove home from the dentist.
Watching with joy as the reflection of the Christmas lights outside danced like fireflies across the walls within our bedroom.
Simple moments of love and joy captured ❤️. Simple moments to be savored in the present and to be remembered with a smile in the future.
I pray that you all have a beautiful and blessed holiday season, regardless of how you celebrate.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all. 💛