My mom visited my dream last night. I haven't seen her for awhile. It wasn't a happy reunion, but at the same time any time I see her, it is good. Life is so full of contradictions and juxtapositions. So are dreams.
I'll spare you the details of my sequence. What is lingering yet today is the crushing sadness of seeing someone I saw as strong and powerful reduced to weak and powerless. Also haunting is losing hope all over again. Hope is that last bastion of faith also known as fools paradise and greedy glutton.
Is it greedy to want more than a sixty year life? I argue it isn't even while conceding that many are robbed much sooner. Are we fools to pray first for cures and later miracles? I am not a skeptic though my faith has been tested and my hope lost. To lose hope is to accept defeat.
She was in my dream alive. We were all just realizing that she would die soon. Our hopes were dashed as we knew there was nothing more to do. That was a dark day I'll never forget. Going back there last night made for a disheartening dream. I woke up crying and soon found myself relieved that I didn't have to go through losing her all over again. That it was just a dream. Just a dream: another paradox.