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E P I L O G U E
Last month I had a dream that was a simple scene and
quite beautiful. I was standing on an unpaved, dirt road in
the countryside—a road that cut through hay fields that had
been mowed close to the ground. There were a couple of
people walking in front of me about thirty yards ahead with
their backs to me. The person on the right was a short,
lean, gray-haired, old woman bent forward about 45
degrees, and the other person was a tall, younger man. With
their backs toward me, I couldn’t see their faces, but I
thought I recognized Mother’s hair style. She seemed older
than when she had passed away, and that was probably due
to her posture now having a bow in it; but she was walking
again after having been in a wheelchair for the last few
years of her life.
Then I recognized myself as the man whose arm she was
holding for support. As I looked, she turned slowly and
stared straight back at me. She was smiling broadly, holding
onto my double’s arm, and continued walking as she
looked back. We had solid eye contact and shared smiles.
Then she turned back to face their road, and the two of
them started getting farther away. Her support never did
turn to face me but kept his eyes on the road and straight
ahead. They never stopped walking during that encounter.
I’m not sure what all of that meant. Considering it now, I
would say that Mother and her caregiver or support had
moved on to another dimension. She was old and bent, but
her smile and happiness had not diminished at all, and she
was walking again. Her support—the caregiving portion of
me—was still helping her, and the two of them were
heading over the horizon, maybe going to meet Dad. The
still living portion of me was silently saying goodbye to
them since I had more life to live before my time came to
leave this world.
Offhand, I don’t know what role the countryside dirt road
and cut hay fields played in the scene. My guess is....
quite beautiful. I was standing on an unpaved, dirt road in
the countryside—a road that cut through hay fields that had
been mowed close to the ground. There were a couple of
people walking in front of me about thirty yards ahead with
their backs to me. The person on the right was a short,
lean, gray-haired, old woman bent forward about 45
degrees, and the other person was a tall, younger man. With
their backs toward me, I couldn’t see their faces, but I
thought I recognized Mother’s hair style. She seemed older
than when she had passed away, and that was probably due
to her posture now having a bow in it; but she was walking
again after having been in a wheelchair for the last few
years of her life.
Then I recognized myself as the man whose arm she was
holding for support. As I looked, she turned slowly and
stared straight back at me. She was smiling broadly, holding
onto my double’s arm, and continued walking as she
looked back. We had solid eye contact and shared smiles.
Then she turned back to face their road, and the two of
them started getting farther away. Her support never did
turn to face me but kept his eyes on the road and straight
ahead. They never stopped walking during that encounter.
I’m not sure what all of that meant. Considering it now, I
would say that Mother and her caregiver or support had
moved on to another dimension. She was old and bent, but
her smile and happiness had not diminished at all, and she
was walking again. Her support—the caregiving portion of
me—was still helping her, and the two of them were
heading over the horizon, maybe going to meet Dad. The
still living portion of me was silently saying goodbye to
them since I had more life to live before my time came to
leave this world.
Offhand, I don’t know what role the countryside dirt road
and cut hay fields played in the scene. My guess is....
ISBN 0-9778140-0-9
326 pages, 68 photographs.
326 pages, 68 photographs.
Copyright ©2006 Heydon Buchanan. All Rights Reserved.