Perchance to Dream
I didn’t dream about my mother after she died—not for many years. I’d always been a vivid dreamer, and sometimes a lucid dreamer. At night, a day gone wrong would right itself. Long ago pets would visit and keep me company. I would fly, literally and figuratively. But the one thing I wanted most, to see my mother, to talk to her and hear her voice, eluded me.
So, it came as a huge surprise when, a few years after moving to a new province, Mom appeared in a dream.
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