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christie
chisholm
creative

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christie
chisholm
creative

in dreams
Personal

In dreams

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Last night I dreamt of my mother. She had been gone a long time.

“Can you stay?” I asked her. “I never get to see you.”

She didn’t answer, and instead pointed to my chest. 

“Your heart is bigger than it was last time,” she said, more observation than offering. “But it still has room to grow.”

I imagined one of those heart-shaped foil balloons you find in party stores and hospital gift shops pressed against my ribcage, the kind that say “Congratulations” or “Get well soon.” What would happen, I wondered, if it popped?

—c

family | grief | mom

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Christie Chisholm Creative
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