Lucid Dreaming with my Mother

Mommy and me, 1979.
I can lucid dream. For most of my life it's been a way to travel -- generally via magic carpet, though occasionally I'll travel via pod like on Singapore Airlines or whatever -- and also to eat whatever I want without fear of hurting my belly or my cholesterol. I can use this power to extract myself from nightmares and turn them into magic, sort of like turning a boggart into something comical.

For the past three months, however, I have been using it to hang out with my mom. Last night I had a really fun time with her. We all went to Scotland, and after arriving via magic carpet, we traveled to the Isle of Mull in a rented Microlini (my newest strange vehicle obsession, see video below).

Sometimes I ask her questions to things I forgot to ask her in real life -- like, "What was your mom's favorite color?" or I'll tell her all about the hilarious things her grandkids are doing.

I'm coping surprisingly well with the grief, but I'm wondering if it's because I still get to see her. I can't command her presence in my dreams, but when she shows up, I'm totally aware that it's a limited-time experience, but it still always involves a hug, a smile, and appreciation of the moment, even though the moment is in a trance. Hoping I can hold onto this part of grief for a little while longer -- pretending she's away on a long trip, or has left the family to go find herself in Paris. It's making life a little easier for now.