Nightmares In Dreamland

by | Jun 24, 2013 | Little Angie, Little Nothings | 2 comments


Last night, I had a bad dream.

When Luca was a baby, I dreamed that I accidentally posted him in the mailbox. Bren woke to find me standing up in bed clawing the blinds in a frenzied bid to get the baby out but we all know that once mail goes through that slot, it becomes government property and you can't get it out again.

Anyway, the dream last night was worse.

Someone died and I had to get to the funeral but in that crazy, dreamland way, I kept running into obstacles. There were so many stairs and actually I was at university and I just ran out of time. And then I was talking to Tanya Howe except last time I saw her was in the early nineties and I'm pretty sure she had epic red hair so maybe this was a different Tanya Howe but anyway, I seemed to sense that she was an old school friend and I needed to tell her that my mum died.

Hang on, WHAT?

And that's exactly what the moment felt like when I realised that the person who had died was actually my mum. I felt winded. Even in that dream world, I could feel the sorrow like a gaping emptiness in my tummy. It was awful.

What am I going to do when I need to call her on the phone and tell her stuff?

 Even in Dreamland, I knew that losing my mum will create a loneliness in me that I am not sure I will ever be able to fill.  

I woke up and vowed to call her when the super moon wasn't still bright in the sky. But then the day begins and you have far too many children and they need all the things and the food and it never ends. Then it was lunch time and I thought about something I wanted to tell Mum and my heart did a flip flop. One split second of thinking my dream was real.

Photo by Steve YoungMy mum and my daughter – awesome

I called her. She answered the phone which was an excellent sign.

"Oh good, you are alive." 

She told me she planned to be for quite some time. I said that was excellent, that I would miss her terribly, that I needed to tell her a lot more stuff for a lot more years.

I love my mum. Even a moment of thinking she was no longer around was unbearable. 

I told her I loved her. She already knew.

But if she goes funny in the head, I'm putting her in a home.

I think she knows that, too.

Hello friends


I’m Angie!  I mum. I write. I wife. My husband would say this is the correct order.  He’s so neeeedy. I live with my family in Melbourne, Australia, where I complain about the weather for 90% of the year – but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Except maybe in Lake Como, waving to my neighbours George and Amal each morning.

Insta Love


  1. K

    I lost my beautiful mum last year very suddenly. When my daughter was 5months old ( the time I needed her the most).
    Enjoy each and every day with your beautiful mum, say everything u feel, create special memories and take many photos.
    The past year has been extremely hard without her as she was the most amazing grandmother and a huge role model for me. Without her I have experienced many emotions I have never felt before and at times I felt desperate to hear her voice, pick up the phone and talk to her or just pop round to see her.
    Iam not the same person without her, a part of me changed the day I lost her.
    I can see in your photos how special your lovely mum is and the gorgeous bond your daughter shares with her.

  2. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Hi K,

    Thank you so much for sharing your story here. Your words express exactly what I fear life without my mum would be like. I am so sorry your beloved mum is no longer with you and I hope with time your grief will ease a little.



Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *