Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Not Just A Dream Yet Only A Memory

Have you ever dreamt something yet it wasn't something that has never happened but just a memory that you had long forgotten about? I have. A couple nights ago this same thing accured. Usually after dreaming and waking up, my memory of what my dream was about is long forgotten. This time that didn't happen and I think it's because it was actually a deja vu,

Here is what happened, long ago yet just a couple days ago.

Back in my parents home where I grew up, there I was sitting in the living room. I was watching television, my Dad on the couch and my mother at her normal station which was sitting at the kitchen table. I rarely recollect her sitting anywhere else. Unless it was very late night and her and my Dad were snuggled on the couch watching some tv show.

Anyways, my Mom had parneses anemia which made her wrists very weak so whenever she wanted to write a letter she always used a typewriter. Well this time as I watched her for a couple hours, she had in her hand a pad of paper and a pencil. This was a very strange site to me.

Being totally curious I wanted to see what she was writing. I waited until she was deep in her writing when I went into the kitchen. She must of seen me in her (eyes in the back of her head) because she quickly closed the pad of paper. I went ahead and opened the refrigerator door. I turned and asked her what she was doing. She answered by saying that she was just writing a letter. I said "Mom I can see that much but why aren't you typing? She then told me that it wasn't the kind of letter that you could type, it needed to be hand written.

Well to say the least, THAT really got my curiosity up! I then went back into the living room and watched TV. I kept a close eye as to my mom and her doings. After a few more minutes I noticed that she was deeply consumed in her putting words on the paper so I made my move.

I wasn't sure that I could sneak up on her because of the way she was sitting so I quietly went out the front door of the house, walked around to the garage. Our garage was attached to the back of the house. Back then, that was unusual. I went through the garage and luckily it was hot outside so the back door was open!

Well it wasn't like I was an angel back then, I knew exactly how far I could open that door before the first squeak. Then how far till the next one and so on. Don't get me wrong, I didn't do it that often, I was a good girl back then.

I managed to get the door opened enough to slide my body inside. It opened up into a utility room and from there was the doorway tot he kitchen. I peeked around the corner. She still had pen to paper and was writing in such a fashion that I knew she was trying to get alot of words down before she forgot them.

There was my chance. I very slowly, very quietly walked into the kitchen behind her. I glanced over her shoulder and there at the top of the page it said, Dear Beth, My Loving Daughter and friend. Those words surprised me! Next it went on to say, I want you to know just how much you mean to me and just how happy I am that you are my daughter.

I wanted so much to keep reading but there was a noise from the other room and it broke my mom's concentration so I took a couple steps backwards and was in the doorway of the utility room. Whew! that was close.

I don't know what made me dream of that moment in time but I do know that not I am being drove crazy by the fact that I have never received that letter. What happened to it? Did it get through out with everything else when my sister basically lost her mind and emptied all my parents possessions in that big trash bin? Could see of kept it in that old cedar chest that somehow my cousin stole? If I pray fervently, could it possibly show up somehow? I wish I could read the rest of what she wrote to me those many many years ago.

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