[GUEST POST] Mothers

We’ve got another guest post on moms from Denise Medina. More about her after the story, but most importantly she can be seen TONIGHT at The Alley in Highwood.

My mother passed away almost seven years ago. She was only fifty-nine. We were very close, and I was lucky to have her involved in my family’s life (hubby and two girls) on a daily basis. We were suppose to be old ladies together, because she was only seventeen years older than me.

Right after she passed, I was sort of but not really (but maybe) looking for signs from the spiritual world that she was still around. A couple of weeks went by and I was a little more sensitive, wondering if maybe spirits couldn’t read your thoughts. I don’t know the rules.

I found myself alone in the house, so I shouted out loud, “Mom, I just need to know that you still exist.”

Not that night but the following night I dreamt that my friend Helen and I were reconciling – mom knew how distraught and confused I was over our falling out – when I suddenly and softly cried, “Helen, I have to go. My mom is here.”

Mom appeared in a pink, fuzzy bathrobe, wearing knee-high cow print socks. She loved all of the kitschy, knick-knacky cow things. She was illuminated and breathtaking. I knew I was asleep but it didn’t feel like I was dreaming. It felt like I had met her somewhere. I wasn’t dreaming of my mom in the past or the future. I don’t remember any scenery, inside or out. There was just blackness and space around us. We hugged, and I could feel her body, solid in my embrace.

As I held her, I lingered in that hug with my eyes closed. Relishing the strong physical touch, I remember thinking, “Hold onto this moment. Don’t let go because you don’t know when you will ever get to hug her again.”

Then I spoke to her, something to the effect of “Can you believe this shit?”

Not, “Hey, how is Gramma? Have you seen Jesus?” No. There were no profound questions about the afterlife or heaven. I didn’t know how much time we had.

She simply replied, “Yeah, I know.”

We held on for awhile, and then I woke up. I remembered everything, every detail, every feeling.

Two months later, I received a phone call from Helen.

Denise Medina was born and raised in Chicago. Although she currently resides in the northwest suburbs, the phrase “You can take the girl out of Chicago but you can’t take the Chicago out of the girl” totally applies to her. She performs stand-up comedy in the city and surrounding suburbs at such places as The Lincoln Loft, Improv Playhouse, Madame Zuzu’s, and the Kates.

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