Cool Comfort

I have this recurring dream where I'm in a basement. It's cool and dry and sparse. And oddly comfortable. The floor is cement and the walls are sheetrocked and there's a few dimly lit light bulbs hanging from the ceiling rafters. The room is filled with dozens of closed wooden coffins on top of gurneys. The all look exactly the same, with the exception of my mother's coffin.

My mom is sitting on top of her coffin. She looks neat and clean and her clothes are freshly pressed (like always). And, of course, she's smoking. She's happy to see me and she asks, 'What took you so long?' And I'm thinking 'what took me so long?? What took you so long. I've been trying to connect with you for 14 years.' She has on a bit of make up and she seems so at ease.

And then she smiles at me. There's light radiating from her when she smiles - not literally radiating from her but it's more like an aura or presence. This is the smile that's meant only for me. This woman has known me my entire life. She knows everything about me. (Even things I wish she didn't know about me). She sees right through me. She looks at me with a strong, even gaze but I have a hard time looking at her.

This happens in my dream but I remember these feelings when my mom was alive, too. She had such a strong presence, without saying much at all. I think it's a family trait; something inherited. When my oldest son was a young boy and did something wrong I would look at him and he would say, 'Stop yelling at me!'.

Maybe I can't look at my mom because I feel guilty. I can't think of specific things but I'm sure there were times when I hurt my mom. She often tried to help me label my feelings, often suggesting guilt, but I would dismiss this with a different feeling. Maybe I did feel guilty and I didn't want her to be right. Guilt seemed like such a weak emotion and I couldn't afford to be weak. Isn't guilt the great humanizing emotion? The one that levels the playing field? We all are human, we all make mistakes, we hurt others and therefore we feel guilty. I was in a double bind. If I didn't feel guilt, then I wasn't seen as quite human. If I did feel guilt then I was a weak link in a family that couldn't afford any more weakness. So I chose to keep my family strong, the best way I knew how, as a child. My mom knew me well -probably better than anyone has ever known me. Next time I dream about her I'm going to ask her why I chose not to feel.