No doubt inspired by a very saddening episode of Australian Story last night, I was rocked by disturbing dreams all night that my Mum had died.*
*Note to reader: I’m referring to my grandma who raised me after my real mum actually did die years and years ago. We call her ‘mum’. Let’s move on.
It was unsettling, to say the least. Plus the ABC story itself stirred up some thoughts – for those of you who missed it, it was about Lyndall Hobbs, a journo/filmmaker/former girlfriend of Al Pacino, and the sacrifices she made to look after her ailing dad in his last years of life. It was her musings on trying to make up for the guilt she felt at having lived overseas chasing the dream for much of her life and thus missing out on family stuff, that really got me thinking.
And dreaming.
No conclusions really, just sharing the ingredients of my stirred up pot.
Then there was Caleb’s dream last night:
“I was with Papa, and I messed up Papa’s party, and then I ran across the road, and then the Cookie Monster cuddled me!”
I can’t even compete with that.