Saturday, September 01, 2012

The last goodbye

"The other night
You wouldn't believe
The dream I just had
About you and me..."
- Some Nights by fun.

This is just for me.
It is not the funny.


I fell asleep last night thinking of Lily.  Been thinking of her a lot lately and I don't know why.  There are no anniversaries of hers, no birthdays, no "this is when she found out she had cancer" dates or anything.
Best I can figure is she's checking in on me and I'm just picking up on it.

What I was thinking specifically was the last time I saw Lily alive.  We were all home the first year Dad had to celebrate Mom's birthday without Mom.  Everyone was on their way to church the same time that I was climbing into my car to drive home to Wisconsin. 
Lily hugged me goodbye a little longer than usual.  I would find out later that she knew she was going to refuse any more treatment, and she knew this would be the last hug she'd give me.  But I was in a hurry because I'd wanted to say goodbye to the relatives across the street before they left for church.
It's not like I blew her off, but it was a moment that should have been savored.  Not hurried.

Before you tell me "It's okay, Roses.  She understands," let me tell you about the dream I had.

I fell asleep with this last hug on my mind.
After feeling my sister's presence for a few weeks.

In the dream, she is hugging me hard.  I am weeping into her shoulder, "I have missed you so much."
"I miss you too," she says.
"I haven't seen you since December 3rd."
"I know.  But see?  That isn't the last time you got to see me anymore.  Now we have this."


I got to give my sister the goodbye hug I wish I'd given her.
Because now we have this.

All is well.


Andy said...

Roses, I understand the dream thing. Really, I do.

My beloved Granddaddy died just before Thanksgiving, 1981. It is a very long story...but the short of it is that I VERY often dream about him.

The one that comes over and over again is a dream where I am with my wife, children, Mom, and Dad in the old sanctuary at First Baptist Church, Bossier City, LA.

(They don't even use it for church services any more...have built a bigger thing where they worship).

Anyway...I'm disturbed by something going on, and tell my wife that I need to go outside. I walk down the the HUGE sanctuary doors...and there he is. Granddaddy is standing his plaid trousers, and checked shirt (he was a salesman...and the best one I ever knew, too).

He smiles at me with his big, toothy grin, and says, "I'm okay, Andy." It dogs me, yet comforts me.

Wow...just go ahead on and regret that you ever picked up a blog friend like me, Roses.

Better yet...just delete this. Won't hurt my feelings not one bit... Seriolusly, it won't. I just needed for at least someone to read that after reading your post.

Thumper said...

Treasure that. I very, very rarely have the people who have already gone on trip into my dreams. And it's never poignant when they do...maybe because they know I'm not wired for it? I dunno... but I think your sister is still very much there, and it won't be the last time she filters in and does that...

Roses said...

Nothing wrong with what you shared, Andy. Kinda nice, actually.

Treasure it, I will, Thumper.

Bou said...

A couple months after my mother in laws unexpected and shattering death, we were all struggling. I was trying to keep it together for everyone. I had three babies, my husband, I was still working... my father in law was such a mess we weren't allowed to grieve. Every move we made... her memories were of the sainted woman she was. She was just amazing.

I had a dream one night, and I won't go into it all, as I remember it all vividly, but at the end she said to me, "I'm not a saint. Remember me for who I was..."

There was much that occurred in that dream that made me realize she was coming back to say goodbye, that last time, but the last phrase startled me when I awoke, because I had no idea we were doing that. It helped with the healing.

I'm glad she came back to check on you. It made me cry...

Mrs. Who said...

You are blessed to be able to experience her like that. Blessed.

Moogie P said...

I miss those dreams where I got to visit with my mother. Her visits are rare now, mainly when I'm seriously stressed. I envy you.

And I'm so happy for you. Even though you made me cry. I could almost feel the hug.

Roses said...

I knew you guys would "get" this.

I was a big, sloppy mess typing it out, but it was a good, sloppy mess.

Thank you for being so very awesome.