What do I do with you?

I saw my mom in a dream last night. She came out of the dark, in her pink duster, sliding her slippers on the floor like she always did. She had this amused look on her face; an amused smile that would say, “Hay! What am I going to do with you?” You know - the resigned smile of a mother who can’t do anything with a stubborn child.

She was also carrying a stack of papers. When I first saw her, I said, “Nay!” surprised and somewhat pleased to see her. Then I thought to myself, “but you’re dead” - which kind of spooked me. She handed me the stack of papers but I didn’t look at them because I was still trying to get over the shock of seeing her. I don’t believe in ghosts but I can easily be afraid of them. When my mother died, I prayed that she won't show up anywhere to surprise me because it would scare me. So when I started feeling the fear, I lost her in the dark but still I could feel her fingers against mine. I felt her sit next to me, then pulling me to sit on her lap like she did when I was little. Then she gave me a hug from the back, and sort of jiggled her arms a bit. She does that when she comforts me. My family was never very affectionate in a show-offy kind of way. But this was my mother’s way of telling me that everything will be fine. I could almost hear her sigh, “Ay sus ah!”, resigned to the fact that she can never change her kids but would love them anyway.

I woke up and cried.

If there ever was a way for the dead to communicate with the living, this works fine for me.