Mom loved to dance, but didn't have many opportunities to do so as it wasn't one of dad's
favorite things. She told me that she
was a brilliant choreographer during her sleep and she would dance the night
away. She said she wished she were as
active during the day and that perhaps she could lose some weight. I think often my mom felt self-conscience
about her appearance and perhaps did not
pursue her dreams of dancing as she didn't figure she had the figure for it.
She did seem to lose weight whenever
she was involved in a sewing project - usually clothes for me. I know she made matching shirts for the
entire family when Kayla was just a baby.
She did make a couple of matching outfits for me and Kayla. But as I think about it, I believer most of
her projects she made were clothes for me.
I liked wearing something that had been made
for me personally from fabric that I had chosen - even what might have been
"drape" material for a kid's room.
She never discouraged me from wearing what she may have thought of as
bizarre. I would rather be in something
that I helped design than look like a billboard advertising a certain brand of
jeans. I didn't know that we were poor
and it was just less costly to make clothing.
When mom wasn't dreaming about
dancing, she said she was often sewing in her dreams, and she would make
elaborate designs. But there are a few
times she would share really bizarre dreams with us. There is only one that I can remember in
detail, but I will share two,
The first one happened on a family
trip. We'd been vacationing in
Yellowstone I would guess. Mom had a dream about fishes who had taken on
human personalities. She said the leader
of the fish walked and talked like John Wayne.

But that is all that I remember.
The other dream involved the
bedspread. This is not an accurate
picture, but something similar to how her bread spread appeared.
This is the bed spread she slept
beneath when she was having her "Cotton-Picking" dream. She said she was on a plantation picking
cotton for what felt like hours. She
could feel herself working hard - so hard in facet, that when she woke up she
was perspiring .
It took several minutes for her eyes
to adjust. She had been wearing glasses
for most of her life, and her vision was quite distorted without them. She looked at the floor and saw a bunch of
linty fuzz scattered between her bed and the TV and wondered what it was and
why it was there.
She had indeed worked hard at picking
that cotton - but not just in her dream.
Her hands were busy feeling the little balls upon her bed spread. Mom had managed to single-handedly ruin her
bed spread while she dreamed. For as she
was picking cotton from plants in her dream, she'd been tugging at the stringed
pattern that held her bed spread together.
It is funny but yet it's not - at least not at the time. I don't know if she ever got that physically
active with any of her other dreams.
Labels: Cotton, John Wayne, labor