It's so nice to sit and feel like 'ahhhhh' :) a bit weightless you could say.
Most parts of the day have felt a lot like something sharp jarring into my face. Some sort of disease, illness or feeling sick twisted blerghh yucky feeling that throws you back and think 'what the fuck was that'. Right now, I know what the fuck that was, and it was death.
A change is always a death. It's also a birth as well. We get anxious over change. Anticipate. Nervous. What will life be and how and when and what why who blabbering meaningless words all insignificant drivel we process until everything has happened, and process the 'following' to accept for the future.
Last night I dreamt about mum, being alive. She was alive in a 'hospital' laying place where those who suffer from illness go to chill and be before they die. The difference in this dream was that mum had lingered to that place, where as in real life mum had most recently rocked out to a great people party and celebrated her 49th year of life. It was the best I had ever seen her, all year.
Those thoughts make it hard to believe, and accept, which when you have a dream about your sick mum who is alive, then dead, then not quite dead and is more so seeming half asleep in a dream (probably relating to her last moments on a oxygen machine where every fake breath wasn't actually her coming awake but was really her body pumping out the remaining air), and then actually die...again in a dream!... It's gross. But it was real (oxygen support). And as weird and strange as dreams are when they involve the dead-they have become strangely comforting.
Mum was meant to die. We all are of course, don't get me wrong I'm not religious (perhaps you could say more spiritual), but over the last four months from the exact date I knew mum was really really dying, to last night, I know it was her turn. I don't want to think what if, or how come, or feel robbed anymore. I feel like she knew she was meant to die. In every one of my dreams involving mum and death, mum of all people is the most relaxed about it. Walking to work has seemed empty, walking through holding back tears and biting my tongue so no sea comes out has probably been the easiest part. The hard part is knowing she isn't there, and trying to bring her back in any way possible.
I think mum knew she was meant to die because she always seemed so calm throughout it all. I know she hated it too, who would want to die slowly and realise everything you will leave behind is moving on and you won't get to see it... whether it's these dreams I keep having, or whether it's just knowing mum I know that when she knew she couldn't change anything, she wouldn't fight against it.
The most real mum has seemed to me lately is in these dreams. Her voice, her movements, her calm. I feel like I said goodbye to mum more than twice because of these dreams. You can say goodbye to a body, but a person-you can't put any worth on. I had the most vivid dream the night I knew my mum had died, before I even got to the hospital the next day (before we knew there was no chance of her surviving).
I was rushing to get to a train. I remember the train being packed, and full, and once it came to a halt I was struggling to get out of the train and up to the steps. It felt almost like titanic when they start closing the gateways for those stuck below and all they do is look up at the guards who won't let them out. Some how, I managed to get through all the people, on the stairs, up to wherever it were. There was a chase. Wherever it were was the most clear dark blue space, with the most bright clear lights. It wasn't cold, it felt normal. There was a white ageing building to my left, tarmac paved floor, green surroundings to my right and structured slopes and stepways. Infront, was mum and Brian. He on left and her on right. He was dressed in his suit and mum in her wedding dress. She looked beautiful, and to her side was a tall metal stand carrying a drip. I remember walking over to them and just feeling really there with them, I just knew. I felt like I knew everything without words needing to be said. As I write I know how it was just to hug mum, how she felt, how she hugged me...this stupid linger hug but then became a squeeze. She always squeezed through her pain, she stretched for me. Mum always held me and pushed me away. She always knew things were tough. I remember walking more over to my left, we made our way to the paved slope. Grass hugged the edge and we took a slow walk up the hill, further more into the lights held above us pointing to the way. The next part happened very quickly as all in a moment myself and mum were both on a small milk truck sized vehicle, holding on the sides as we stood opposite each other. She was still in her dress, looking her best the last I saw her. As the vehicle traveled slow we passed green on either side and buildings. I looked all around calm and back at mum. She had changed and was now wearing a mask, a clear plastic mask covering her entire face. I remember saying I loved her, and that she had to go somewhere, and that I couldn't go with her. I remember her saying she loved me, and that she knew. She nodded. As we grew near, the slope began to curve right, down wrapping around into a place I could not see. I remember hugging mum, kissing her on the cheek and saying I have to go now, I can't go there with you. She shook her head and said I know. We held a gaze, all in the eyes-that look of seeing through someone and into them. Really looking at them with no words what so ever. Whether I was holding her hand, or holding her goodbye, I then lept off the vehicle and looked back at mum. Her glance, continued and stayed with mine as the cart curved around the bend and went into 'that place'. She knew the whole time, that in that dream, that was her time.
How can you replace something that has been in your life for so long, since forever, since you have been born? You can't. But you have to let people be there for you, they have to be right for you as you let them be them.
I don't know how to word anything else right now accept that it all just makes sense. It all just makes sense. Amongst everything that has happened this year to me it's when people go to waste which has a startling misbehavior. For me, lines are now lines instead of bumps and calm really is calm with excitement. Why do we always go by 'what ifs' instead of live for now? There is no certainty that anything is going to be the same as you left it. I know by my facts and If you feel so much just don't postpone it, some instincts are stronger than others.
And for once this evening I've been able to cry. In that strange way, everything feels alright again and I can finally accept things for what they are. And I'm ok with that.
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