Billy Writes A Little

A Momentary Glance

    I talked to my Mom last night. I hadn't talked to her in almost 18 years. That is such a long time not to speak to one's mother. But she passed away in 1990. It was of course, in a dream. It's just that for a reason that is still unclear to me, we have never spoken, until now.
    It really wasn't a dream any different than the ones she has been in all these years. We are usually here at home and both of us seemingly healthy. She and i going about our lives as if everything was normal. But we have always just passed each other by. Walking down the hall, we pass silent, or as i was walking out the door, she would be coming in. Not one single word has ever been exchanged between us, only feelings.
    My dreams can be many things at once. Full of fear or insecurity at one moment and shear terror the next. But when she enters, all is calm. She brings with her, my peace. Like a deserved break from an alien attack. Or a calm feeling as i see the tornado passing far off to the northeast. These much needed re-assurances of my well being, follow her as she enters, and remains with me as she quietly leaves. I am safe once again.
    This is how i have dreamed of my Mom. It has just always been that way. Until last nights dream.
    I had dropped a glass on the tile floor in the living room. I was on my knees wiping up the mess, being careful not to cut myself, but also wanting to get even the slightest sliver of broken glass up off the floor.
    I glance up and see Mom walking into the room, apparently on her way to the kitchen. I go back to picking up the pieces, then i think to myself, i want to tell her something. I stop and look up at her. She stops and looks at me.
    "I miss you Mom.", i say.  "I miss you too Son.", she says to me.