One of the things I hate most about living away from home is that I can't go and visit my mom whenever I want to anymore. Over the past year, I have developed a habit of visiting the cemetery on particularly hard days. Even though I know that I can talk to her anywhere I am, there is something oddly comforting of knowing that I'm close to her body. I've found myself wishing for the chance to go sit beside her grave and talk to her the way I did before. Sometimes I would bring a notebook and write my feelings down through poetry, and often, I felt like she was listening to my ramblings.
I had a dream the other night that she stopped by and told me she loves me. It felt way to real and new to not have been a message from her. I remember hearing a general authority talk about how a dream about someone who has passed on is usually an actual encounter with them. It's very comforting to know that she knows what I need and is able to help in small ways like talking to my spirit while I sleep.
This last appointment has left me with the duty to mediate daily for five minutes. It has been surprising to me how much I can relax during the times that I force myself to. Although it's not nearly as much as my therapist probably would like, I am proud of myself. Today I am grateful for my mom's hugs. I swear I've never felt safer in the whole world than when I'm in her arms. There were many days where I had lovely little emotional break downs with her and we would just hug each other. I'd rather feel her arms around me now than any feeling in the whole world.
I love you too mom. Thanks for dropping in and checking in on me. I'm trying to make you proud.
P.s. I know I've already shared this picture, but I love her smile in it.
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