I've had three dreams about my mom. The first was just her coming up an escalator, then I woke up. In the second, we were shopping together like we would've done one random weekend. Kohl's, Penny's, looking at shirts, commenting how ugly some of the clothes are or how we'd never be able to fit into those jeans.
The third dream was last night and it was the most real of them all. I got a call that she was alive. I went to my parent's house and there she was, in a turquoise skirt and shirt. I hugged her, not believing what I was seeing, asking her how this was possible since she was cremated. She replied, "the doctors put me on life support." (hey, it's a dream, it doesn't have to make sense). My aunt and my grandma were there talking about what's been happening since she died. I stood off to the side, observing, not believing it was possible. Then I saw that she had found something that I've searched her house high and low for since she died-wishing many times I could just ask her where she had put it last. I asked her where she found it. She told me that it was under the cabinet wrapped up in towels. Next time I'm at dad's I'm going to look there.
Each morning after these dreams I wake up wanting to just go back to sleep so I can see her again. I hate these mornings.