| I had a dream a couple of weeks ago after my mom and I had been fighting. I don't remember a lot of the details, but I'll do my best. Oh, and my logic in my dreams isn't always the best, but I forgive myself, so you should, too.
The sky was gray, colored by clouds of ash and dust. Buildings were burning in the distance, and the sound of sirens was mingled with screams and mobs of people in a frenzied panic. The house was shaking, and the ceiling seemed to be crumbling in places. Dust was constantly raining down in the chaos, and I could barely make out the faces of my family members.
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed my side. A large chunk of wood from the ceiling had grazed my side. My mother was frantically trying to get things organized, putting a leash on the dog and shooing my brother and father to safety, wherever that was. I knew I wasn't hurt bad, but I desperately wanted her attention. I cried out to her and said "Mom, help, I'm hurt!" She started walking towards me, when a large chunk of the ceiling came crashing down on her wrist. I screamed out in fear and rushed to her aid. She was bleeding profusely, as her wrist had been slit open. My dad and I moved my mom to the couch in the living room. Everyone gathered around, frantically trying to think of what to do.
I remember gathering material from some fabric nearby and wrapping her arm tightly with the material. The bleeding slowed down, but my mother looked exhausted and very close to death. I was sobbing, thinking that I was never again going to see my mother. I began blubbering, saying things like "I'll be nicer, I promise. I won't argue anymore! Please, please don't die!" By this point, I was desperately blinking back the blinding tears, trying to get one last look at my mother.
I told my dad that if we were to get her to a hospital, maybe we would have some chance of saving her. We quickly but gently carried her to the van. She felt so limp. I was so frightened. We went to back out of the driveway, but the pavement was cracked and dangerous, and what wasn't cracked was blocked in by police cars and other emergency vehicles. I shouted at my dad, "Mom is worth this. We have to go! She can't die!"
My dad put the car in reverse and was halfway down the driveway when an ambulance pulled into the driveway. The driver demanded that we stop driving and hand over any wounded people to them.
My mind flashed immediately into our garage, where the ambulance strangely transformed into a black SUV. We had to lift my mom's limp form through the back of the SUV, where she was unceremoniously but somewhat tenderly dumped onto the backseat.
Her arm was sticking up at an odd angle, and I grabbed her outstretched hand and begged her to want to live. She had been muttering that she didn't want to go on, that she had had her time on earth. I pleaded with her not to go, to give it one more shot. My thoughts kept prompting me to say "Think of your family," but I knew she had sacrificed too much of herself already for us, for me. So I promised to be the obedient, loving daughter she and God desired me to be if only she would live for me. With whatever energy she had left in her, she nodded, somewhat hesitantly.
I was sobbing uncontrollably, and I woke up almost immediately afterwards to see my mom coming in to wake me up. I was so relieved to see her alive. I could go on to tell the rest of the story from that day, but this is really more just a place to record my dreams and nightmares. That was definitely one moving nightmare. Needless to say, I was very nice to my mother that week. |
