Then I dreamt of my mother. My mother passed away in 2005 after a sad and torturous life. She struggled with alcoholism from the time I was six years old, mostly in a bid to avoid feeling the feelings of having lost her own mother when she was 11. The thing is, except for one time, whenever I dream about my mother, she is always drunk. Always. Last night, the parts of the dream I remember: I was taking a bath with all my clothes on (?), then heard my mother come upstairs. I got out of the tub, went into the bedroom, we started hitting each other, and I screamed that I was leaving.
There is a part of me that longs for a dream about my mother where she is mothering me. The one time I did dream of her and she didn't seem drunk, she walked into an apartment I was in, turned on the light switch, and walked right by me as if she didn't know me. I remember thinking how beautiful she looked, but she did not acknowledge me.
I am not sure where this is going. Where is the gratitude? And of all things, about my mother. I wrote an essay after she passed away (sorry I don't think I know how to post a link properly)
and in there I struggle with the things I might be grateful for - not having to worry about midnight phone calls from the police ... but somehow that does not feel right for this space here - this space of gratitude.
Maybe it's about this .. I am grateful that I have learned other ways to cope with grief, sadness, and pain. I am grateful that I have other outlets for difficult feelings and interestingly enough, writing has always been one of those outlets. Maybe that's the link. I am grateful that I have people in my life that are there for me when I am scared, upset, lonely. I am grateful I don't shut them out.
I am grateful for the life I have chosen to live.