The day before Mother's Day

The food was scrumptious.  That’s all I could think as I finished my meal.  I glanced around, observed the few other customers eating in the cafeteria, which was a satellite off the main dining hall of the hospital.  Everyone seemed to be pleased with his or her orders.  I observed a woman in her fifties sitting at a table near by, talking to another woman who appeared to be her friend, about a  trip she had taken to town.  I didn’t stop to think why I was in that hospital other than to devour the famous fast food culinary staff was known to prepare.  


The afternoon seemed pleasant until a customer, a man in his late forties, suddenly stood up and became agitated, yelling out loud.  Then he produced a silver, shiny gun, holding it in his right hand, pointing at the ceiling, while cussing and restlessly moving in circles.  Everyone seemed paralyzed in terror.  No one said a word.  My heart pounded as I feared for my life.  After a brief moment, the man turned to face a window, and looked outside.  A quick thought flashed in my mind.

Run!

I exited the cafeteria quickly and ran with all the strength my legs would allow me.  I found the stairs and I headed down, running, holding the handrail.  I was uncertain whether the man had seen me fleeing the cafeteria or not, or if he was following me.  All I had in my mind was I needed to find a safe place.  There was no one in the stairwell, going up, or down.  I continued running downstairs, not knowing  how much longer I would have to run before I would be out of danger.  I realized I must have been on the very top floor of the hospital, even though the cafeteria was on the main floor.  It must have been a 12-story building, I thought. 

The stairs, the walls and the entire building were white.  Finally, I arrived to a floor where I noticed a huge change in colors and decoration.  I slowed down and scanned around.  The walls on this level reflected burgundy and green hues.  Plants and beautiful decorative accents were strategically staged all around the medical floor.  A  foaming spring adorned the center of the place, with water gently running from it and down a stream casting effervescent bubbles bursting and vanishing into the air.  I heard soothing music. It resembled a spa. 


There were many people around.  Some old, some young and many small children.  I wondered what medical unit this could possibly be.  Then it was as though the answer came to my mind, in a natural way:

I am on the oncology floor. 

I continued taking in the floor and the people.  Everyone seemed calm and relaxed.  I noticed that not all of them were cancer patients; there were visitors as well, but everyone seemed to blend in.  Just like a large, happy family.  


I saw comfortable leather sofas and chairs placed around the floor.  I started to feel tired, and barely reached an empty chair before I collapsed into it.  I sat comfortably, feeling serene and safe.  I knew I was away from the danger now.  I took a deep breath and felt thankful for being in this place.  


I observed more children and women, they were chatting and carrying some wardrobe.  I looked in front of me, and noticed a large curtain, and realized that behind it was a small stage.  They were preparing for an artistic presentation.

I felt at peace.  But then I knew it was time for me to go.  I stood up and headed toward the exit door.  I pushed it open and walked out of the building.  I found myself walking down the street, realizing that I didn’t have my purse, my cell phone, or money with me.  I walked the empty street, only cars passed by.  I recognized the town—it was my hometown.

Then the image of my mother came to my mind. 

I looked toward the oncoming traffic, waiting for a taxi to come by.  That was the goodness of my hometown, there were hundreds of cabs transiting the avenues of the large city, 24 hours a day.  It wouldn’t take that long to board a cab and head to my mother’s place.  I was sure she would be happy to see me, even if I had to borrow money from her to pay for the cab.  


How silly!  I grinned.


Then I blinked, and opened my eyes, but unexpectedly, found myself staring at the ceiling in my bedroom. 


It was merely a dream! 

I sighed as I recalled the vivid images of my dream. 


Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, I realized.  Happy Mother’s Day in Heaven, Mom.