Calling Mom

The night before my mother’s 11/11 birthday, I slept restlessly.

I woke to see 11:11 on the digital clock. Again at 2:22.

I consider repeated numbers to be signals, little “hellos” from my mom who left her body years ago.

I finally slept, and dreamed.

My husband and I, and a number of strangers, were in the outdoors on wilderness adventure.

We climbed higher and higher on rock hillsides then across wet and mossy ledges. We slid on our seats, maneuvering with our feet to keep from going off the edge.

I tried to keep up, but slid over off. I slowed my pace, lost sight of them. I eased over an oddly situated shelf constructed of wood. Underneath were supplies for the journey ahead.

A man appeared to assist in making selections, but I wanted to consider the items myself.

I rejected a heavy automobile tire, various boxes I couldn’t carry.

I found a large hood with attached headset. I put it on.

“Want to call your mom?” The man asked.

“Of course,” I responded.

But the wires dangling from the headset weren’t attached to anything.

Would Mom have a headset wherever she is?

How do I reach her?

That’s when I woke from the dream – on the morning of her birthday: fifteen years after she passed.

I’d love to talk with her.

But I know I don’t need an ill fitting hood or headset to reach her. I’ll make it through. I’ll navigate the slippery cliffs of life ahead. Love will guide me.

I know my mom is not “gone.” She’s not here in her body.

But sometimes, we still communicate. Especially in the outdoors I believe nature assists us in realizing our fondest hopes.

Thank you, Mom, for the dream about calling you! I love you.

#outdoors, #nature, #love, #adventure