[Weird Dream Channel] Dream About My Mom
Aug. 14th, 2007 09:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trooper6I just had a dream about my mom.
It was near the end times. But mom was coherent and looking good....if a bit tired and rundown. She was laying on the couch in front of the bay windows...we were in the old flat in San Francisco. Dad was complaining that mom hadn't done any of her artwork in so many years. She said, that she couldn't because of her hands. I said that I'd be her hands. If she drew the lines, I'd do all the beading. She was excited about the idea. So was Dad. I asked her if she wanted me to buy her some beads. She got a thoughtful look and said there was a little bead shop in San Francisco called Begoni's...I told her I remembered Begoni's (This was the bead shop in North Beach she always used to buy her materials from). She said I should go there and get the beads. I said, I didn't know which colors. She went into the den and pulled out a binder and started looking at these colored tabs.
"131..." she said. (I think it was the color black)
I said, "How do you know what color that is?"
"I have the whole palette memorized."
"How many" I asked.
"30,000" she replied, then she went on with the list, and she named two different types of gray...then listed a bunch of numbers and I quickly tried to write them down.
As I was writing them down, Dad showed her how he had cut down the piece that had been ripped and reframed it. I was thinking about how it was 4pm and I'd have to rush to get into the City and to Begoni's before 5pm (even though it was the San Francisco house in my dream, since it was the end times, we were in Oakland--I was up visiting from Los Angeles). Mom was really excited and she said, "This will be my last statement...and it's not what you think it'll be." She had this twinkle in her eye...the mischievous kind she could get. Meanwhile dad was rehanging her works of art on the wall in the den. When I saw that he was hanging Rose Nelm (the work of art I have hanging on my bedroom wall here in LA, that I brought back with me)...there was a bit of disconnect...I remember thinking, "Wait, isn't that piece back in LA? Didn't I bring that back with me?" Then I thought, "This must be a dream..." (I don't know if I was really thinking this thought or if I was dreaming the thought...I was definitely in the process of waking up...which is why I could remember the dream at all)...then I thought "if this is a dream, then it's a good idea. When I wake up I'll offer to do the beading for mom, so she can do a last piece of art."
Then when I finally woke up fully, I was a bit disoriented...then I remembered that I couldn't actually offer to be my mom's hands, because she had already died. I was too late to make the offer. When I was in highschool, she taught me how she did her beading. I should have made the offer. Now I'm really sad again.
It was near the end times. But mom was coherent and looking good....if a bit tired and rundown. She was laying on the couch in front of the bay windows...we were in the old flat in San Francisco. Dad was complaining that mom hadn't done any of her artwork in so many years. She said, that she couldn't because of her hands. I said that I'd be her hands. If she drew the lines, I'd do all the beading. She was excited about the idea. So was Dad. I asked her if she wanted me to buy her some beads. She got a thoughtful look and said there was a little bead shop in San Francisco called Begoni's...I told her I remembered Begoni's (This was the bead shop in North Beach she always used to buy her materials from). She said I should go there and get the beads. I said, I didn't know which colors. She went into the den and pulled out a binder and started looking at these colored tabs.
"131..." she said. (I think it was the color black)
I said, "How do you know what color that is?"
"I have the whole palette memorized."
"How many" I asked.
"30,000" she replied, then she went on with the list, and she named two different types of gray...then listed a bunch of numbers and I quickly tried to write them down.
As I was writing them down, Dad showed her how he had cut down the piece that had been ripped and reframed it. I was thinking about how it was 4pm and I'd have to rush to get into the City and to Begoni's before 5pm (even though it was the San Francisco house in my dream, since it was the end times, we were in Oakland--I was up visiting from Los Angeles). Mom was really excited and she said, "This will be my last statement...and it's not what you think it'll be." She had this twinkle in her eye...the mischievous kind she could get. Meanwhile dad was rehanging her works of art on the wall in the den. When I saw that he was hanging Rose Nelm (the work of art I have hanging on my bedroom wall here in LA, that I brought back with me)...there was a bit of disconnect...I remember thinking, "Wait, isn't that piece back in LA? Didn't I bring that back with me?" Then I thought, "This must be a dream..." (I don't know if I was really thinking this thought or if I was dreaming the thought...I was definitely in the process of waking up...which is why I could remember the dream at all)...then I thought "if this is a dream, then it's a good idea. When I wake up I'll offer to do the beading for mom, so she can do a last piece of art."
Then when I finally woke up fully, I was a bit disoriented...then I remembered that I couldn't actually offer to be my mom's hands, because she had already died. I was too late to make the offer. When I was in highschool, she taught me how she did her beading. I should have made the offer. Now I'm really sad again.
