Oh, Death, You're So Comical & Unfair

Darrell's been very confused lately, which is normal because there's not as much oxygen going to his brain.  He keeps seeing people that aren't there and particularly, he's been seeing people who've been dead for over 30 years.  Crawford, a friend of Darrell's took mom aside one day & told her to watch her back.  He said Darrell had told him how much he wanted to hit mom on the back of the head.  Mom wasn't nearly as concerned about it as I was but she is a bit concerned for her two small dogs.  Darrell is very confused.  Who knows what's he's saying half the time. Of course I told her if he becomes violent or even looks like he might become violent, "You put him in the hospital or you put him in a home!"

Kathy said this is normal when a person is literally fighting death.  When Kathy took a week off, a fill in nurse came over & she said she went through this mean streak when her father was dying.  Basically he was mean as a snake right at the end.  It seems cruel because a person is going through so much watching their loved one die and yet have to put up with such meanness at the same time.

"He doesn't know how to fight it," Kathy said.  I suppose that's true.  Although Darrell has been displaying moments of very sweet tenderness, then like a psychotic schizo he'll flip and become very, very mean.

Mom knows it probably won't be too long now and she cries as she tells me his skin has a grayish tint to it and his blood pressure is 90/40.  She stopped by the store today to pick up some stuff of hers I'd had repaired.  I led her into the parking lot after she started crying a little and told her my very weird dream last night.

I'd been having really wild, wacky dreams lately.  None of it makes any sense but I totally remember them.  Last night I dreamed I was at Mom's house and it was just crammed full of people ("Oh great!" Mom says in real life) and Death, the standard character of Death, with the black robes and the sickle was gliding about, all over the house.  Also,t he house was really full of old people--I remember most of the people were really old.
So I went to the bathroom and locked the door because I was afraid Death might come after me.  Even with the door closed and locked I was aware that Death was passing down the hallway.  As he continued down the hallway, his shoulder and a bit of his torso passed through the door along the way.  I'd better hurry up in here, I thought as I quickly zipped and buttoned my pants.  (At this point Mom is freaking out a bit in real life)  As I opened the bathroom door, Death glided toward me.  It wasn't threatening or scary at all but I was very well aware he was coming toward ME.
I squatted down just a bit, bending my knees and thrust my hands into the air doing a jazz-hands sort of mimic and started out real loud, "WAAAUGGHHH!  WAAUGGHHH!"  Death continued on to pass me and looked at me sideways as if to say, "What the hell is wrong with you?!" and continued on his way.  I saw his face, it wasn't a skull but a human face but looked like leather that had gotten wet and dried too quickly, also it was flat gray.  But the way Death looked at me and cocked an eyebrow that wasn't there made me almost laugh when I woke up.

In reality it was the action of the jazz-hands and loud shouting that actually made Mom laugh a little.  Just a little.  I've never put much stock into dreams and what they could or might mean--I think it's all a bunch of nonsense and memories bumping into each other as I sleep.  Kind of like when I defrag my hard drive.  ...Just information being pulled apart and put back together to make more room for new information.  Dive into that and see what sort of metaphors you come up with.