I love socks, and I love pajamas, and I love staying home on a cold day, all snuggly under a blanket (with my darling husband, its PERFECT!).
I have cold feet and, besides, my feet must have a different abnormal shape necause about 90% of the shoes I use hurt them.
So, besides warming my feet, socks also protects them (oh! and I have ugly toenails).
When my feet are cold, I feel terribe! I feel depressed. I feel like the world is a cruel place to be.
I like everything that makes me feel protected, cozy, warmth, comforted (a friend of mine, Vania, once said to me its because my moon is in Taurus).
And maybe this is why I love comfort food as well.
Its my 22:40 hs Saturday and, out of the blue, I have this image, this perfect cristal clear vision, of my mother getting ready to go to the hospital to start the very agressive chemotherapy because of her leukemia (which was actually the cause of her death, two weeks later – she had a massive pulmonar embolia).
Anyway, she was probably devastated in the inside, but she was showing tranquility. She was wearing her turquoise dress. She gave me her wedding ring to keep it for her because, as she said, the nurses would probaby ask her to take it off for the treatment.
I am crying. I miss my mother. I would love to chat with her. I would love to hear her comments and opinions about how my life is now.
I wish Cam would have met her. I wonder how Cam would have liked her. She had a completely different personality than my father.
The other day, just after Cam went back to New Zealand, at my auntie Nina´s place (there was a little party to celebrate my brother and my aunt Leticia´s birthdays), I met my cousin Gilda and she told me she had a very interesting dream with my mother. In her dream, my mother was very happy and shiny and she said that she is fine – wherever she is – and she is looking after all of us. I believe it.
I dreamt of my Mum as well, actually a couple of times. But once I had this very “strong” dream of her with the biggest smile on her face. Cant even describe how wonderful she looked.
She deserves the best of Heaven.
I also remember being at the hospital with my mother. It was just I and my mum in a quite Saturday morning when the nice Priest klein (who did the a nice service at her funeral and on the seventh day of my mums death – and now I wish I had pictures of everything) showed up and prayed with us.
I remember, just a couple of days before she died (she was almost bald and had lost so much weight), she was lying on the bed (at the hospital) and she held me and caressed my hair.
Also, I remember, 2 minutes before she got into coma, she asked me to hold her hand and pray for her.
And this was the last moment I saw her alive. Then she was gone. Forever.
My mother died on January, 25th of 2001, at 63 years old.