I’ll Tell You My Dream If…
By Liz Larrabee
How could I forget? I’m laying flat on nothing…a “bed” of bright light surrounded by blinding light walls as if a million watts of sunbeams had exploded all at once. A transparent figure appears at my feet. I’m frightened. The apparition speaks in a soft reassuring voice. “It’s all right. Don’t be afraid.”
In an instant my upright body is fused with the opposite wall of light. It grips me from head to feet. I can’t move. On another wall, there’s an opening that leads to a place from which even stronger rays are tugging at me but I can’t break away. Again and again, I thrust both hands towards that place where my deceased mother is waiting. As I reach out, wrench and twist, I call, in a slow, desperate, guttural voice, “Ma-ma. Ma-ma, Ma-ma.”
I’m awakened by my husband who says, “You woke me with your thrashing … did you have a bad dream?”
Was I experiencing the “light at the end of the tunnel” and changed my mind when I was rudely torn away from my destiny?
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