Fortunately, early this morning, I was with Xavier, a psychiatrist, on the way to the pool. I told him my mother spoke to me in my dream. I heard her voice. Clear as day. It was her! My mother! She said, “Hi Sue.” That’s what she called me, sometimes, especially when she called me on the phone. There was static around her voice in my dream, she was breaking up, like a long distance call from yesteryear, but I heard her so clearly, so real, so alive, speaking to me in my sleep. I told Xavier, I’ve been dreaming a lot since the chiropractor cracked my emotions and popped them to the top. All kinds of dreams and nightmares too, Maggie Scratch style. Tarantino, assassins, horrible dreams, people betray me and then disappear. And the Buddhist meditation I practice every day — I can’t find the light! It’s gone! Or…was it ever there? The dark side surfacing, my unconscious, my subconscious… everywhere! Xavier said he knows a person, Hans Wilhelm who talks about communicating with loved ones passed. Perhaps my mother came back to soothe me, to say, look, here’s the light, don’t worry, I’m with you still. Protecting, comforting, giving the light. Life changing to death, is it really, as Hans Wilhelm says, like walking into another room? The spirit lives on? My mother’s voice? I’m here still, I’m with you, I’m light, I’m love, I’m the voice that never dies. Always by your side?