Forever One

     Some relationships are forged through shared life experiences, but others are begun at one’s beginning. This was true of my mother and her sister Amelia’s bond. They were the last born of seven children during the hard times of the depression. They were born thirteen months apart and shared everything from their clothes to their bed. Amelia was known as “Millie” and my mother was always called “Fattie.” I believe she was given this moniker due to the chubby little body she had as a baby. The name simply stuck.


     Throughout their lives they certainly had their ups and downs as most relationships do, but there was a prevailing bond that was unquestioned by both.

     As they grew older, they spent time shopping, going to bingo, and visiting friends and family as a team. They were hardly ever apart and often spent their time alone chatting on the phone with each other.

     My mother, Fattie, began to experience serious health issues in her mid-60s. Millie was always there for her even though her rheumatory arthritis nearly left her disabled. Mom developed lung cancer in January of 1997. She had to undergo six devastating rounds of chemotherapy and then over thirty radiation treatments. Aunt Millie spent time with her in the hospital and at my home where Mom was staying. They shared memories and laughed even though each was suffering her own health concerns.

     When my mother was told she was cancer free, it was almost Christmas of 1997. Mom was able to return to her apartment and she and Millie were back on the road to adventure again.

     They had a great deal of fun shopping that year. My twins, my mother’s only grandchildren, were three years old and she wanted to make sure they had a great Christmas. Around the holiday, Mom developed a cold. She rested and took good care of herself, but the cold fought back. She began to experience serious breathing complications. In Mid-January, she finally agreed that she needed to go to the hospital where she was admitted. Her lungs, although cancer free, were weakened from the year of treatment. Her cold had morphed into pneumonia. She fought for nearly nine days, but lost her battle and passed away on January 23, 1998. My aunt was there for me throughout the days that followed and supported me while I completed the necessary duties of an oldest child. She, too, looked very weak and fragile and I wondered about her health.

     My cousin shared with me that Aunt Millie was sick too, but didn’t want to pursue treatment. After mom’s death, Millie spent her days sitting in a chair at her daughter’s home. Her stamina got weaker by the day.

     Time passes quickly in the hustle-bustle of things that need to get done. I managed a few visits to my aunt, but it was very painful to see someone else you love dying so close on the heels of my own mother’s death.

     Two months after Mom passed away, I had a very vivid dream where Mom came to me while I was driving. I had just passed Waste Management on Pen Argyl Road in the 1962 Ford Falcon which was our family car as I grew up. I recognized this as strange even in my dream since it had been years since I’d driven that car. Suddenly, I became aware of Mom’s presence next to me. She wasn’t in her physical body, but more a ball of energy that spoke with her voice as it bounced around the car. This energy sat next to me, in my lap, and even on the dash as she joked and chatted. I finally asked, “Mom, what’s going on?”

     She replied, “You have to take me to Millie. If she sees me when we walk in, I’ll know she’s ready to go with me.” Her purpose seemed clear, but I doubted this whole experience. She smiled through the energy and said, “Just get me there and we’ll see.”

     The drive seemed short after that with my next dream thought being the approach to my cousin’s front door. I knocked and entered, spoke to my cousin briefly before approaching my aunt. My mom’s energy was bouncing around me waiting for something. When I got to my aunt, I reached out and touched her gently on the leg. Her eyes slowly opened and fixed on the spot where my mom’s energy was. She said very faintly, “Fattie, what are you doing here?” as she smiled in my Mom’s direction.

   Mom seemed to speak to her, but I couldn’t hear what she said. The dream ended when Mom turned her attention my way, smiled, winked and said, “See, she’s ready.”

    I awoke feeling somewhat strangely. It was a wonderful feeling having my mom near me again, but the dream was also unnerving. What did it mean? Was I just wishing for her to be back with me while at the same time expressing my worry for Aunt Millie?

     Later that very same day, I got a phone call from my cousin. She told me that in the early part of the day, Aunt Millie passed away. She said she died peacefully in her sleep, but she went on to say the strangest thing occurred just before she died. She opened her eyes and said, “Fattie, what are you doing here?” She then smiled and was gone.

     I was in a state of shock. She asked me if I though my mom could have come back for Millie? Was their bond that strong? All I could do was say that I definitely believed it and that someday I’d tell her how I knew for sure.


Debbie 2008   Ten years after Mom's death