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Monday, May 14, 2012

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.


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.


Beth Stilborn said...

I felt relief as I gradually realized this must be a dream -- and then the poignant "Happy Mother's Day in Heaven" caught at my heart. *hugs*


steveroni said...

A beautiful mother-daughter photo, Doris. I mean REALLY PRETTY--grin!

And, ya know what? From the beginning I knew it was a dream, a well-written dream, which could have evolved into a gigantic mystery, or cops-and-robbers.

Wow! that hospital where you 'dine' in the first floor cafeteria, then run down 10 flights...well, that's some weird architectural design!
PEACE...for you (and your dear Mom!)!

Jeremy Bates said...

That was an exciting way to say Happy Mother's Day.
Have you ever thought of writing a novel?

Unknown said...

Yes, your experiences, real or otherwise, would make a great novel.

Bica said...

Dreams are fascinating, and I certainly enjoyed yours. I hope you had a wonderful Mother's Day, Doris, and I, like you, wished my mom a "Happy Mother's Day in Heaven".

Kathleen said...

My mother resides in heaven, too. Even after these 30+ years, of her being gone, I often find her visiting my dreams or warmest memories. How wonderful that your love holds fast. Something tells me hers does too.

A Plain Observer said...

There are so many symbols in dreams. Slowly think about them and connect them, you'll be surprise what you find

A Plain Observer said...

Que linda calena!

Amrita said...

My goodness what a thrilling dream ,my goodness I would have jumped out of bed, or fallen out of it! LOL.

Yes our mothers are in heaven , I want to join in with you to send our mums lots of love.

I love your beautiful photo

Hilary Melton-Butcher said...

Hi Doris .. I hope you had a happy Mother's day weekend .. I'm so glad that was a dream - and nothing untoward happened ..

Love the photo of you and your mother - you both look just wonderful .. cheers Hilary

Anonymous said...

Wow you got me wanting to read the ending. When You got to the cancer unit and sat down as you were tired. Not so upset as you werein the beginning. I thought hmmmmm.She is pretty laid back after all that running. I think anyone would be sort of stressed out

Then that got me to realize it was a dream. Would make a good novel.

Like your Mothers Day remark and picture of you both.

God bless you.

I just wrote something in my blog about Mothers Day Past.About daughters and Mothers.

Mariette VandenMunckhof-Vedder said...

Dearest Doris,

Wow, this is quite a story... but with a lovely ending and a great picture of your proud Mama!
Glad I made it over to your post for reading. You are a great writer in many forms.
Love to you,


Mary Aalgaard said...

Excellent description. Happy belated Mother's Day.

Giancarlo said...

buona domenica...ciao