My parents loved me but could not accept me. It was a different era and being Gay was still illegal. My parents were religious and that didn't help.
My Mum was especially troubled, I was her longed for 'son'. To find I was her daughter was too much.
We met briefly many years later after I had emigrated and returned home for a visit. She was no more accepting than before and our love was strained.
She died, lonely after my Dad had died, her tower of strength.
I never said goodbye, I never went to the funeral. I reflected but did not grieve.
I rarely dream or at least rarely recall them.
I had a most vivid dream the other night. I was suddenly in a field, very green, very typical of the UK. I had no idea why I was there, and then my Mum walked up to me.
We walked together, My Mum and her daughter, hand in hand.
She then asked if we could kneel and pray together, we did. She prayed, I reflected; I have no Gods.
We then stood, she kissed my, and said 'I love you my Daughter, I am now in Paradise'
Then she left and the dream ended.
I had the distinct feeling that she wanted me to share this, to pass on love to all children whose parents could not love them.
Cindy; proud daughter of a wonderful mother. RIP.
