Tough times emotionally

Despite unseasonably warm weather earlier in the week, today was really November. Overcast, cloudy and gray.

 Kind of like my mood.

I planned to be in the final steps of getting ready for Saturday's Talking Turkey, but due to my cold and a bad cough, I haven't run all week. I did continue to walk the dog and even jogged a few steps to make sure my feet still lifted up, but it didn't quite make the cut. I hope I can still run the race.

This time five years ago marked the final days of my mother's life, a good long one with a very brief period of illness. Today I heard a story of someone who died young in an accident, and it kind of put my loss in perspective. But still, as everyone knows who lost one, it is your mother.

She has been coming to me in my dreams. The other night I dreamt that she and my aunt were lying on a bed intertwined like snakes. That's how close they were in life. My mother was dying, and as the two revolved around each other, my mother's head became visible. She looked just like she did the last time I saw her. "You're so beautiful," I said.

A few nights later, I dreamt that I was back in our apartment in New York. My parents, both very frail, were in the kitchen. My mother was bandaging my father's arms just as she did during the end of his life when his skin, so thin, developed patches that bled. They couldn't go outside, and I needed to go and get them some things.

First I went out to the park for a run. And suddenly I couldn't see where I was going. It was snowing and then raining, with little visibility. I lost my way on the path and went into a dead-end snow tunnel. I realized what I had to do, got out, turned left and found the path. Ah, the proverbial dark wood.

I was running in all the wrong clothes, dress boots and a long skirt. But I finished the loop and ended at the park exit that I usually took when I went back home. I had made it.

Yesterday, I called my cousin Joanne in New York, who is a big help and support in many ways. My mother often visits her as I feel my mother visits me, and sometimes Joanne calls to tell me about it. Joanne said she loved the symbolism of my dream run. Despite all the odds, I had found my way, just as I have done in life.

But, but, but, I said, I left my parents in the apartment.

That's OK, she said. Your parents are OK. And you are too.

Joe is already here, and the other kids are coming tomorrow. Today I bought beautiful flowers for the house, not just the usual assorted mums for the Thanksgiving table but also a special bouquet of small yellow roses that I put on the kitchen table. Buy something to brighten things up, I heard my mother say.

I think it is working. And having everyone here will definitely lighten things up, too.