Back, early 2010, when I was misdiagnosed, I had a strange dream. In this dream, which seemed very real, my mother came to me. She sat down on the side of my bed and tried to comfort me, for I was greatly anguished at the time. I was going through the worst period of my life, not only because I thought I had cancer, but other personal issues were weighing down on me immensely, adding to the torment I felt, thinking I would be dying soon.

I asked my mother to help me. I told her about my problems, that is I tried to tell her, but she kept shushing me gently, telling me she knew all about it. I begged her to listen to me, I asked her over and over, to tell me, had I done anything wrong, did I deserve all this, but she just said not to worry. She said, “Cada quien tiene su clavo.” Each person has his nail, or stake. I've never heard that saying, I don't know what it means. I thought that she didn't understand. I told her I was scared to die, that I didn't want to go without working out the problems I was facing first. I asked her point blank where she went, meaning heaven or the other place.

My mother smiled, on her face a peacefulness I could almost feel. She said that it was nothing like that. That it was different and that I should never be scared. Well, to me that meant I would soon be “there.” I started to cry and asked for my grandmother. She said that my grandmother could not come to me, that it (or she) was not allowed. This made me sadder than I already was. If I needed anybody from the great beyond, it most certainly had to be my “Memo.”

Thinking I might have hurt my mother's feelings, I told her I was sorry. She said, “It's all right.” Then she proceeded to hum and comfort me until I fell asleep. The next thing I knew I awoke with a start and remembered the entire thing – dream, or whatever it was. It had felt so real, and it pained me so much to see my mother again, and to not see my grandmother.

For two more months I grieved about the cancer and my other losses. Then my doctor told me that they would be doing more tests, which all came out negative. I remember asking him more than three times if he was sure, positive, that I didn't have cancer.

Since that night, I have had many dreams with my mom in it. I have woken up knowing that I dreamt about her, but didn't have the same feeling that it was real. Until the other night.

In my dream I was taking the bus back and forth, desperately looking for a place to live. I ended up in front of my grandmother's house at 206 Nancy. I stopped by the mailbox and looked inside it, then proceeded to open the gate, all the while looking at the little house, which I perceived to be empty. I walked up to it, wondering how I would get in. As I was trying out the door knob, the door was opened by my mother. I walked in, knowing this couldn't be, she's been dead for many years. I followed her to the kitchen and I told her that I that I was looking for a place to live and that it would be a good idea for me to move into my grandma's house since it was vacant.

My mother said, “No, you can't move here. It's not allowed.” I felt very hurt by this, and I told her that I needed to move there, that I didn't have any place else to go. But, she kept shaking her head, trying to comfort me. I told her that I am too old to be going through this hell, that I just want to stay there, I begged her, please. I felt myself on the verge of tears as I told her that I had lived the worst kind of pain for the last year and that I needed my grandmother. That I would ask her for permission to live there. My mom just kept shaking her head and telling me that I wasn't allowed to see my grandma, and that I couldn't live there. Then she said something that shocked the daylights out of me. “You can't live here because you are in your dream. If you stay here you can never go back.”

Well, with all I've been through, with all I have lost and have had taken from me, I really didn't care. There have been so many mornings when I have regretted waking up to another day of misery. I told her so. She said that even so, it was not allowed for me to stay there. Not now.

I left, feeling even more dejected than before. I walked aimlessly, looking for the bus stop, but I couldn't even find that because my eyes were filled with tears.

I woke up, crying. The dream had felt so real. I desperately wanted to stay in that little three room house where I grew up. It was my only hope for a refuge. I want to go back to it and stay there.

I don't know why my mother keeps coming into my dreams, but it feels to me that my situation here on earth disturbs her very much. In my dreams she keeps trying to comfort me.