Again I say, oh the dreaming mind. The other night, the dream was about Mothman. Last night, my mother.

This is difficult. My mother died four years ago. Her last few years were terrible; dementia. Kidney, heart failure. Not to mention the depression, the anger, the fear.  Since her death, I’ve had several dreams a month about her. My non-paranormal writing has included a lot about my mom. Tough childhood, for all of us. For her, when she was a girl, for us, when we were kids.

Why am I telling you all this? As a bit of background for the following dream. My mother and I would talk about these things; UFOs, Mot
hman(she had a theory about the Moon, Mothman, etc.) She saw a UFO once when I was a kid. I was the only one who believed her. In fact, I told her, she insisted, not to worry, since “They’ll be back. They always come back.” My mother was aware of my interest in this field, and always found it interesting. She never thought I was silly or lying for my interests. She knew better; she had her own UFO sighting, and a ghost encounter. When it came to these areas, she was open.

I don’t know what to make of the following dream. Why two worlds came together: the paranormal-UFO-non-human realm, the working-through-my-mother-issues realm.

My mother is in bed. She’s ill. Dementia has not gotten ahold of her yet, thankfully. But she knows she’s dying. We’re in the home I grew up in L.A. (the one where mom saw the UFO, the one where I’d have all those waiting for the aliens to come encounters.)

My mom is in good spirits, considering. She wants to tell me something. She asks me if I remember the time she went away for a few days, now and then, I say sure. She says she didn’t go where everyone thought — out of town, whatever — but that she was abducted. By “them.” Aliens, for lack of a better word. 

I am shocked, of course. Also terrified. Confused and not sure what I just heard. She then tells me about the “beeping.” Beeping sounds that would pop into her head before a visit from them, before an abduction took place. I tell her about how I hear that beeping too (true.) 

My mom has covered up these UFO-alien experiences her whole life. Missing time, encounters. I tell her of my own. As we’re talking, a huge wind comes through the bedroom, really, a mini tornado. It scares us but we manage to stay in place. Nothing is wrecked. It’s clear this “wind” was really some type of entity, intelligence and didn’t like us talking about these things. Sharing our mutual experiences. 

tornadopixabay.jpg

I woke up feeling very odd about this dream. A little unnerved. Confused. Do I think my mother was ever really abducted? No, — I don’t even think I was ever abducted — but, well, something.

I don’t know what to do with this. Except put it out there. More data. Another angle of approach in our attempts to figure all this out. Which is all we can do, it seems. Share and explore. Which often includes the very personal. It’s scary and weird and one can be accused of oversharing. Well, okay.  True and fair. But sometimes if we withhold some things, we’re only keeping ourselves locked into our present state of Not Getting Anywhere.

Here are links to my other blog posts elsewhere — like on my Saucer Sightings blog — about my childhood memories, dreams and UFOs:

One Hell of a Dream about Aliens

The Synchronicity of Puppet Wolves