Grasping at the Mist
Ever since my parents moved to Carlisle and a friend there offered to take my email letters to them, I have written to my parents every day. Since Mom can't see to read, Dad would read the letters to her. After he died, someone else would bring my letters to her and read them.
During the last year, I had to face the fact that Mom can no longer enjoy or appreciate my communication to her. She's not really herself these days and often is unresponsive. I finally had to face reality and stop sending the letters.
Recently my brother visited her and had the best visit with her that he's had in months. She knew he was family and talked with him again. So yesterday I dreamed that I was talking with Mom on the telephone and it was something like old times. It was an odd experience where I was home talking on the phone but I could see Mom talking on the phone where she is. In my dream she told me that she missed getting my letters and wanted me to write them again. I felt so happy about that.
When I woke up and realized that it was just a dream and Mom still can't enjoy my daily communication, I knew that I'd held a foggy wisp of mist in my hands for a few minutes and now it had dissolved and gone.
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