A Dreamer

She laughed. The sound was like music to my ears. It had been years since Dad died and yet Mom still found it hard to throw her head back and laugh the way she once had. She'd deny this fact in a heartbeat if she were asked but fact it was nonetheless. She was sad still.

Dad had been her best friend. They'd gotten divorced a good 5 or so years before he died but they still cared deeply for one another. Mom would never admit it, but
they could have stayed married. They would have. But by the time Dad had decieded to put any work into their marriage Mom was already packed up and gone.

Dad was a dreamer. He always had the most beautiful dreams about the future and about how life would be ... tomorrow. It was his dreams that had first attracked Mom to him. He wanted to try his hand in everything. Leave not a stone unturned. Mom loved listening to him tell her about all the wonderful things their future had in store. And Dad would tell for hours and hours on end and every dream ended with Mom and Dad in a dream home with a dream job and a dream life. Mom still claims that Dad died from a broken heart the day he realized his dreams wouldn't come true.

Mom had her own dreams of stability and security. They weren't her dreams to begin with and she didn't realize they would become hers when her wild heart joined with the dreamer's that warm summer night so many years ago. At the beginning she went along with everything Dad said, following where he led and standing firm by his side through the good times and the bad. She always thought that Dad's dreams would be enough to sustain the family and to carry her through. But they weren't. In the end she needed more. She needed a roof over her family and bread to eat. Not to mention new shoes for me and Sis to look our best on Sundays. Dad wanted to give her the world. He wanted us to have everything we wanted. And yet we didn't.

It hit Mom hard when Dad died. We weren't sure if it was an elaborate scheme set up by Dad to get us together again and pull a giant GOTCHA! It wasn't though. Dad didn't jump out of the closet laughing histerically and point to our faces. He lay quiet and still in the coffin Mom picked out - deep brown, sturdy oak, lighter in some areas, almost wispy looking... like a dream about to form. I still remember picking out the clothes he would wear and who would sing the song. We let Angeline talk about his life and his dreams. They were too close to Mom and too far from me.
The service was beautiful. It was filled with all the dreams Dad could have possibly thought up. The flowers offered hope against the dreary backdrop of sadness on everyone's faces. Mom cried harder and longer than I expected her to. She really loved that man.

I wasn't sure what Mom would be like without Dad. They'd always been a unit - even after the divorce. Part of me expected them to get back together but they never did. Whenever I mentioned it Mom always moved on with the conversation never letting herself dwell on the thought for very long. I knew she missed him. I knew she longed to crawl into his arms again and for him to whisper his dreams in her ears. But she couldn't anymore. She had to stand on her own two tangible feet. So I was surprised to see her at Dad's one morning about a month before the accident. She made it a point to never be with Dad alone so as to never go back on her decision. And yet there they were that morning. Making breakfast and laughing, and looking happier than they had in years. I rememeber wishing as I walked in that day that I could freeze that moment in time and save every ounce of happiness in a box so I could pull it out later and give it to Mom when things were back to the way they'd been for so long. I've long thought about that day and wondered if somehow they knew Dad's time was short and wanted to spend it together the two of them while they still could.

They always had a way of knowing when something difficult was coming in the other's life. They were always there when it happened, always the first to offer a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on. I never was able to understand it. I didn't have to understand it. It was how they always were and how I hoped they always would be. So it was no surprise when I heard that Mom had been the only one there when it happened. A massive heart attack. Somehow she knew and she was there. I hope every night that in those last few moments they shared together they were able to forgive one another and remember the love and laughter that had once brought them together. I'll never be brave enough to ask Mom. I just hope and pray.

Hearing her laugh again brought back so many memories of family vacations and adventuring in the middle of no where. I've been grateful all my life that fate joined those two hearts so many years ago for whatever reason it did. I choose to believe that they brought more love and happiness to one another than anyone else could have ever done. May Dad rest in peace and may Mom keep all that love and joy in her heart til the day she too passes through the veil and maybe even a little further beyond til she can be with Dad yet again.

And the dreams.

She laughed. The sound was like music to my ears.