Page 30

January

This time, I’m in one of those dreams where I know that I’m dreaming. I look around and the ground—floor?—seems to be made of opaque glass, and everything surrounding me is white. It’s not a room, per se, but a vast expanse of nothing. Almost as if the whole world is…blank. I turn around to see if there’s anything or anyone here, and I see nothing. I can’t hear anything except my own breath.

I’m just about to try and wake myself up when I hear footsteps behind me. I look back and see my father coming toward me. Tears spring to my eyes because he looks exactly the same as before he passed away. As he gets closer, I see he is beaming at me and his arms begin to open. Sparing no further thought, I run to him and wrap my arms around him as tightly as I can. He squeezes me back just as tightly, and I don’t fight the sobs that explode from my lungs. I realize I have no sense of smell here because if I did, I’d be able to smell his familiar scent of aftershave and vanilla.

“My darling Clare,” he says, finally pulling back to look at me. “Oh, how I’ve missed my beautiful girl.”

“Daddy,” I manage through my sniffles. “What’s going on? Is this real? Am I dreaming this?”

He waggles his head noncommittally. “Yes and no. You are dreaming, but at the same time, this is real. I am here in this dream together with you. Your mother’s here too, actually, but she’s with the other version of you.”

My head is spinning. “Mom’s here too? And my other self?” I look around to see if I can see them.

“They are, but we’re going to have a chat first before we meet up with them,” he says. “They’re having a chat now too.”

I’m really wishing I had a chair to sit down on, and suddenly, a chair just like my mother’s rocking chair appears beside me. Sitting down, I feel a little better without the burden of standing. “What did you want to talk with me about? There are so many things I’d like to tell you. Or do you already know them?”

Dad laughs as he too takes a seat in a chair that’s appeared for him. I’ve missed the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles and the baritone sound of his laugh. “I know, darling. I’ve been keeping an eye on you and helping you out, or couldn’t you tell?”

“I was right? You sent the dreams? You and Mom?”

He nods. “Yes. We knew our smart cookie would be able to figure them out.”

I ask the question I really want to know. “So, you want me to be with Roddy?”

He takes hold of my hands, and they feel warm even in this dream state. “From the moment I saw his passion playing El Cant del Ocells , and speaking with him at the donor event later, I knew he would be the one to take care of my darling Clare in my stead.”

“Does that mean you knew I was going to get cancer?”

He looks down at our hands and his mouth turns down into a frown. “Yes. We knew one of you would and one of you wouldn’t. So, we had to pick the best fit for each of you depending on your circumstances.”

“I feel like my head is going to explode,” I say. “Are there only two universes or timelines or whatever, or are there more?”

He shrugs. “To be honest, I don’t know. Your mother and I can only see these two, so we thought maybe they are the only ones we’re connected to. Maybe this is the only set where we died in the car accident. We really have no idea.”

I nod. “I wish I understood, or maybe I don’t, but that’s helpful, at least.” I squeeze his hands. “God, it’s so good to see you again, Dad. I’ve missed you so much.”

“You have no idea how much your mother and I have missed you.” His eyes glisten with tears about to fall, which makes me start tearing up as well. There’s nothing like seeing your father cry to make you cry too.

“I wanted you with me so badly when I was going through treatment,” I say, choking back the tears. “But Roddy was there for me, along with Abby, Isaac and Nate, and I felt so supported and loved. They all got me through treatment, and I don’t know how I would have made it without them.”

“That’s why we chose him to be the one with you in this timeline to support your other friends because we knew they would be there when we couldn’t be. We’ve also seen how wonderful Roddy’s family is and how much they love you. And of course they do because who wouldn’t love our beautiful Clare?”

The other question that’s been weighing on me suddenly doesn’t seem to be a question anymore. “So, I should go with Roddy on the tour.”

“I think your heart will tell you what is right. But I will say that your mother and I want you to get out there and live. Don’t live for us—we lived our lives—live for yourself. Make the most out of your life and live with no regrets. We had no regrets when we died, other than not getting to spend more time with you.” He pats me on the cheek.

I lean over toward him and throw my arms around his neck. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Clare. My darling angel.”

We hug for several minutes, until my father says, “Alright Clare, it’s time to go see your mother.”

* * *

I’m standing in a completely white room by myself. There’s no one else around, and you could hear a pin drop, it’s so quiet except for the beating of my heart. Other than sight, sound and touch, my other senses seem to be dull. It’s eerie and at the same time, relaxing. My mind feels clear after the last few weeks of discussions and trying to make a decision about the trip.

Suddenly, I hear a voice beside me say, “Clare,” and I’d swear it was my mother. I turn my head and there she is. I close my eyes tightly and open them again, but my mother is still standing there in front of me, looking just as she did before the accident.

“Clare, dear,” she says again.

My eyes moisten with tears, and I run to her, wrapping her in a hug. Her embrace feels so warm, even in this cold, uninviting place. I never want her to let me go. “Mom, where are we?” I ask into her shoulder.

“We’re here together in your dream,” she replies, finally pulling back from the hug, but still holding onto my arms. “Your father and I have been watching out for you, you know.”

My hands fly to my head as if to keep it intact. “In my dreams? You’ve been…so you did send me the dreams like I thought?” I can’t believe I was right about that, but at the same time, it makes perfect sense.

“We did. We always said we’d watch out for our dear girl wherever we were. You didn’t think we’d go back on that promise, did you?” She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head to one side, but I see the familiar twinkle in her eyes.

“No, of course not. I just wasn’t sure how you’d do it,” I reply. “I also didn’t know there was a way to manipulate dreams of the living from beyond the grave.”

She puts a finger to her lips. “Shh. That’s our little secret.”

“My lips are sealed.” I bite my lip. “But I might have to tell Abby.”

My mom chuckles, and the melodic tinkle of her laugh reminds me of how she used to laugh at the silly jokes I would tell as a kid. “Yes, you can tell Abby. And Nate and Isaac, if you want. Just don’t go spreading it far and wide.”

I nod. “Did you send me the dreams to tell me that I’m supposed to be with Abby and not Suz?”

Mom looks thoughtful for a moment before responding. “Now, we didn’t want to make that decision for you. We’d never do that. But we did want to give you a little nudge in the ‘right’ direction, so to speak.” She uses air quotes around the word “right.”

“Thank you. I needed that,” I reply honestly. “I don’t know if I ever would have left Suz without those dreams.”

“You probably would have, but who knows if Abby would have still been single by that point. Or, if her relationship with her mother would have been salvageable,” Mom says, shrugging.

Another question pops into my mind. “Do you know about the feelings I’ve had of Other Me? This other version of myself that’s in some different timeline who did get cancer.”

She nods. “I do. We didn’t have anything to do with you having those feelings, but we were able to see both timelines. Your father is here as well, speaking with the other Clare.”

“They’re here?” I look around, but don’t see anyone or anything else. “Where?”

“They are, and you’ll see them once we’re all finished with our individual chats,” she says.

“Are there other timelines than these two?” I wonder aloud.

She shrugs. “I really don’t know. Your father speculates we can only see these two because maybe they’re the only ones in which we died in this way. It’s a mystery I can’t hope to comprehend, but I’m so glad to have been able to keep an eye on my dear girl since we’ve been gone.”

I’m overwhelmed with everything she’s told me, and just with the fact of seeing her again after all these years. “Oh, Mom, I’ve missed you so much.”

“And I’ve missed you.” She wipes a tear from her cheek as I do the same. “Is there anything else you wanted to ask me before we go see your father and your other self?”

It feels so trivial now, but my heart is telling me to ask her anyway. “Should I lead the Ireland tour group?”

My mother smiles. “I think you already know the answer to that question, but here’s my advice: grab the reins of life and don’t let go. You only get one chance, and you should do whatever will make you the most happy, even if it scares you. Your father and I tried our best to live that way, and we want the same for you.”

I throw my arms around her and cry for the time we’ve lost, but also for all the time we had together. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, my dear girl,” she says, rubbing my back like she used to.

We cling to each other for a few moments before she says, “It’s time to go see the others.”

* * *

Without warning, my mother and my…Other Self are here. I’m torn between wanting to hug my mother and stare at this person who both is and isn’t me. I opt for the former, and Other Self does the same with my/our father. My mom’s hug is just as I remember, warm and cozy. If there was scent here, I imagine she’d still smell of lemon verbena.

We share the “I missed yous” that we did with the other parent before, and tears are shed anew. Finally, when we’re all hugged out again, the four of us step back in a circle, alternating with Dad then me, Mom then Other Self. It’s so strange seeing her there with her full head of hair, looking completely normal, like I used to before…everything. I’m sure she’s thinking the opposite about me with my peach fuzz—though it is coming in nicely now to the point where I don’t wear the wigs all the time anymore—and the dark circles under my eyes that won’t go away.

“Clare,” Dad begins, and I wonder if he should have addressed us as “Clares” instead since he’s speaking to both of us, “I know you’re wondering why you’re both here.”

Both of us nod, and Other Self says to me, “Yeah, although it is nice to finally see you in person.”

“Likewise,” I reply.

Dad continues, “Now that you both understand the point of the dreams, your mother and I feel that you aren’t in need of them anymore.”

I gasp. “Does that mean you won’t still be watching out for us?”

“Of course not,” Mom says. “We’ll be watching out for you just as we always have been.”

Both Other Self and I release deep sighs of relief.

* * *

It’s strange seeing myself without my hair and with obvious signs of prolonged illness, but she looks pretty good considering all that she must have been through. Her hair is starting to come back, and I would totally rock that as a hairstyle by itself, though she might still be wearing wigs in the day-to-day.

“Right. We just won’t be sending you more dreams like we have been,” Dad repeats.

“What about the connection to each other?” I ask.

Mom and Dad both shrug. “We’re not sure,” Mom answers. “Since we didn’t have control over that connection, or even of you two being here today, we don’t know what will happen after this.”

“You might have the connection forever, or you may never notice one another again,” Dad adds.

“That would be a shame,” Other Me says, frowning. “It’s been nice to know there’s a universe out there where I didn’t have cancer.”

This brings a tear to my eye. “I’m sure, but I also appreciate knowing that I’m strong enough to get through anything if I can get through that. And that I have amazing friends who will help me through it.”

Other Me nods. “That you are and that you do.”

I’m reminded of what Mom said about the trip and realize that even though it scares me, I’m strong enough to do it. If Other Me can get through cancer, that means that I could too, and if I can get through that, then I can certainly escort a group of seniors around Ireland for a month. And do a darn fine job at it too.

“I’m going to go on the tour,” Other Me says at the same time I say, “I’m going to Ireland.”

The four of us look around at each other and start laughing. Dad’s deep laughter nearly drowns us all out, but us women hold our own, and soon we’re cackling at how wonderful it is to laugh together again.

Dad is the first to break the merriment. “I’m so sorry, my darling Clare, but your mother and I have to go. And you need to wake up soon.”

Other Me and I sober up quickly, and both run to hug the parent closest to us. We switch, then get to the good-byes. The most-likely forever ones.

“We’re so proud of you, Clare,” Mom says, stroking her hands through our hair. “You are our beautiful girl, and we will love you forever and ever.”

Dad takes one of our hands in each of his. “Take care of yourselves, and let Roddy and Abby take care of you. And know that we love you, darling Clare. And we’re always here if you need us.”

A group hug, and they’re all gone…

I wake up in bed, holding onto Abby and know I’m home.

* * *

When I wake up, tears stain my pillow, but I feel Roddy’s warmth as we spoon and feel comforted.