Thursday, April 05, 2012

Lives Remembered

Part of my job at the paper is to edit a little start-up section called Lives Remembered. We get submissions from readers about people they've lost, and I choose some of them to get reported and written up by a correspondent. Last year we did it on Veterans Day; this year it's coming on Mother's Day. I've been getting submissions for about a month and a half. There is a lot of loss out there.

I've read a story about a sister who has seen two of her brothers shot to death in the past few years, a girl (now grown) who bears the weight of causing her baby sister to choke to death, a mother who watched her daughter waste away from cancer, a mother who could feel her son commit suicide days before she found out that he had. Mothers, fathers, grandmothers, mothers-in-law, even a dog. I haven't cried every single day I've read these submissions, but definitely the vast majority. Last week I had a pretty involved email conversation with a woman who was her mother's primary caregiver while she died of cancer. This will be her first Mother's Day without her. Man, do I remember that. I don't think the healing even started until a year after she died. If that.

Anyway. I shouldn't have been surprised this morning when I realized my mom had shown up in a dream. The particulars are fuzzy, as always, but I think we just sort of shot the shit for about an hour. It was fun. And then, somehow, we moved back that hour, like a special Daylight Savings day or something. And then, in my dream, I had to get up and get going. Like, I should have gotten going at the beginning of that hour, but now everything was OK.

When I told Jeffrey about it this afternoon, he said, "Were you telling her about Abbott?" And you know, I don't believe in the afterlife. But when he said that, I'll tell you, I sure did want to.

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