For a while I used to dream about my late mother. She had had MS for most of my life, but had been an artist when she was able-bodied. In my dreams, she always appears in a wheelchair, in her old house and she's always doing some sort of arts 'n crafts activity. In one particular dream, I found her in the garage, making mailboxes, only they were the kind in rural America--the kind in the shape of a barn or a bird house. She asked me to take a 'walk' with her. Suddenly we were on the other side of the house, in the garden, by her favourite lilac bush. I asked her, "If you're in heaven, why are you still in a wheelchair? Aren't you supposed to be able to walk now?" And the answer came to me as soon as I'd asked it: Because this way, you'll recognise me, this way you'll know it's me. I know that most people would say that dreams are our subconscious' way of making sense of our waking lives and that this dream was just me making sense of her death and how it fits my life that's gone on since. While that may be true, I believe that my mum or her 'essence' is out there somewhere and that SHE was communicating with me in that dream. I find it comforting to believe that she is not limited by her disease anymore; it's only my imagination that's keeping her in that chair.