Moonlit Dreams
My parents experienced difficult times in their final days, and it was easy to see they were most at peace when they were asleep. At the time, I truly believed: In their dreams, they sleep with the moon.
The loss of both came far too early. My father’s early retirement due to health concerns meant that, rather than winding down to retirement, he was left with troubled years that ended well before he could reach true retirement age. I know my mother pined for him for the next fifteen years. As her own health failed, and with it her memory, I imagined that, in her dreams, he would return to her on a moonlit night.
These days, in my own dreams, they never sleep. I trust they would want their time together to be waking moments. Even in dreams, each moment is truly precious.
This bit of flash fiction is my response to Prosery Monday: Moonbeams and Moon Dreams, presented by Merril at dVerse ~ Poets Pub. With Prosery, the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction with a 144-word limit. Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. My flash fiction also meets the additional challenge of hitting the 144-word mark, exactly.
For this prompt, the line to be included is from “Death at Wind River,” by Mary Oliver. (the complete poem can be found here)
“In their dreams
they sleep with the moon.”
– Mary Oliver
My first father left far too young. 56. Now my mom is gone, do many years later, I think about him with a little more peace in my heart.
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“do many” = “so many”
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You’re right, Ken, every moment spent with a loved one is precious, even if it is in dreams.
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Thank you, Lisa.
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You’re welcome.
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Our loved ones continue to live in memory.. this is poignantly written.
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🙂 Thank you.
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The story of your parents touched my heartstring. My father was disabled by a stroke, but his mind was sharp; my mother spry as could be, but her mind was fogged. They compensated for one another in their final years. He went first, and she was lost without him to remind her of the days, and the names of their grandchilden. I do not fear death, but I fear the manner in which I get there!!
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Thank you, Beverly. Failure to properly address health issues into his late forties led to my father’s death by sixty. My mother was lost without him. I’ve not had any major health issues, but closing in on seventy has me more conscious of any little thing that arises.
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Your story is pulling my heart, it also resonates, my father died in a forced retirement that was all medical appointments and struggle. I found this helpful, it gives voice to my feelings.
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Thank you, Paul. We never stop missing them.
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That is so true, and more so in what I’d like to share and say now.
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Nice write, KG. Clearly very different from my own parental story. My mother, like yours, had real trouble letting him go, even though he totally abandoned her about a couple decades before she died. Sadly, he was (and always remained) The Man Of Her Dreams even though he was a nightmare as spouses go.
Strong use of prompt
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Thank you, Ron. Some dreams die hard.
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A poignant and eloquent piece of writing, Ken. I can imagine it must’ve been hard to lose your dad when he was still relatively young. And equally hard on your mom. (My parents are both gone too…. It’s true we never stop missing them.)
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Thank you, Betty. Yes, she relied on him for almost everything. My sisters and I filled that gap, and my mother doubled down on her devotion to her grandchildren.
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Your piece is so moving, Ken. I too have lost both parents, my father before my mother.
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Thank you, Kim. It may be inevitable, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
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Ending life struggling with bad health must be soul destroying for everyone. Maybe that’s why so many people cling to the idea of an afterlife, to reestablish some kind of justice.
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Freedom from the chains of the body, perhaps.
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Yes, it must seem like that at the end.
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Ken, this saddens me, but hopefully they could find their peace when it was ssential.
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Thank you, Rob. I have no belief in an afterlife of any kind, except as a romantic, poetic notion, but I want to believe that they finally rejoined to share love and comfort.
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Beautiful. Such a moving way to imagine your parents reunited after a long sleep.
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Thank you. Wouldn’t that be grand.
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This was poignant, Ken. Having lost way too many people way too young, I have come to cherish the time I do have with each one that I hold dear. It is not ever easy, no matter that.
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Thank you, Dale. So true, never easy, no matter how inevitable.
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Never is.
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So poignant, Ken. I hope you have good dreams of your parents.
In her final months, my mom imagined my dad, who had died over twenty years before, was with her, and I suspect she dreamed of him.
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Thank you, Merril. For me, those dreams are always good.
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So sad when you have to give up too early… you never know if your seeds will be able to grow… but still we always plant them
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We do. Always looking forward.
Thank you, Björn.
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What a well written and poignant piece. Very effective how you repeated the words/idea of the prompt line throughout.
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Thank you. While it’s sometimes hard to write about them in this way, this time wasn’t.
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A lovely writing
Have a nice week
Much💛love
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Thank you, Gillena.
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