Although bedridden, Mom arose and went to a window, stood on her tiptoes and looked out, repeating this several times, more excited with each. I reached for her and held her tight. When a zing of electricity entered my body I let her go. She dissolved into sparkles that flew out the windows.
4 thoughts on “257/365 The night Mom died (dream)”
“Sparkles of light.” Yes.
I kind of love your dreams.
What everyone else already said.