Say It Isn’t So

 Hello. Good morning and I am sending you all hugs. 

Friday night I went to bed earlier than usual. I was pooped from the night’s festivities. 

However, my brain apparently didn't get the memo. I had the most horrible dream. I dreamt my mother passed away. I woke up Saturday morning in a state of panic and tears running down my face. I didn't call her to tell her because I didn't want to alarm her. I was carrying that weight enough for the both of us. 

All day, I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. I tried to shake it off and just say it was a dream… but something wasn't right. 

And then my friend… the one who has weaved in and out of my life for over two decades now, the one I feel I have an invisible soul tie to, and the one that has popped in and out of my mind so strongly at times that I have resigned to understanding that there is a cosmic pull between us… stayed planted in my mind all day. 

At first, I was angry. I am doing everything I possibly can to let go of this connection because every time we get close, they run. I am trying desperately to protect myself from hurting. 

Still, my dream and he stayed put. I didn't reach out because I got rid of his contact info. It seemed to be the best possible thing to ensure I wouldn't fly off the handle and send a risky, emotional text when he was orbiting my psyche. 

Last night around 11:30 or 23:30, he sent me a vocal message. He was distraught. In his muffled message, I heard the words… “My mother passed away.” 

I sat there in silence. I played his message over and over again—hoping that in some wild miracle what he was saying wouldn't be true. 

I was trying to wrap my head around the dream I had about my own mom, feeling him intensely all day long, and even thinking about how even though my dream wasn't real, how I would convey that through a text message. 

“My mother passed away.” 

I don't think I would even be able to send a vocal… I don't think I could utter those words and I am not looking forward to the day that I am forced to. 

I never met her but I feel like I know her. I feel like we would have gotten along. I am not even sure she knew about me… the girl her son met in Ibiza who ultimately wrote a book series loosely based on that experience. 

I know she had a huge heart and opened it to many people. I knew she loved her son and they had a close bond. One very much like me and my mom’s. I knew she loved the Beatles just like my mother. 

I sent my condolences and let him know, “I am here.” 

I took the high road and pushed my ego aside for a friend. I then went to someone who knows all my secrets, but will never speak of them. 

I asked for advice. 

I asked about my dream. 

I asked about their pull yesterday. 

I am grateful that my friend thought about telling me and I meant what I said, “I am here.” Despite everything I know we have an unshakable connection. I can no longer hold onto to it all by myself, but I will be there… especially now. The door isn't closed nor do I think no matter how hard I try to slam it shut, will it remain that way. 

I am only fooling myself and in a way, I think he is too. I know he tries his hardest to distance himself from feeling us or me. 

I also understand from experiencing loss myself that connections—even if they are hard to comprehend or resist—are extremely important. 

When you have one that is so rare, you take care of it. You show up. 

I truly wish I was there with him… to at least hold him. To at least let him feel a safe space. To hug him so tightly that realizes not all is lost. 

I am thinking of you, friend and my heart is so heavy. You will not have to go through this alone… because no matter what… love will always stand strong. Our bond is for the books and it is an epic telling of the tether we have. 

Hug your mothers, fathers, friends, and siblings tightly. 

Love to you all. 

~x