Mom's Great Beyond Resort

The scent of tropical flowers and the soft rustle of palm leaves filled the air as I found myself again in a dream that felt suspiciously real. The golden sand beneath my feet felt warm, and the waves hummed a soft, hypnotic tune. Then, as I turned, there she was—my mother, standing before me with an impish grin and the unmistakable twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Look at this place!” she exclaimed, arms outstretched like a travel agent revealing an all-inclusive resort. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

I had to admit, it was impressive. It is the place you’d expect to find on a brochure titled Paradise: Now Available in the Afterlife!

“Mom, it’s beautiful,” I said, soaking in the scenery. “But why do I feel like you’re about to upsell me on a timeshare?”

She laughed, the sound so pure and familiar that it almost made me forget the absurdity of it all. Almost.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” she said, waving me off. “I just wanted to show you around. You love Hawaii, don’t you?”

“Yes, but—” I hesitated, suddenly suspicious. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to get me to stay here?”

Her face froze briefly before quickly switching to her best. Who, me? Expression. “What? No! Why would I do that?”

I squinted at her. She was up to something. I’d been in enough of these dreams to know the pattern. We’d laugh and reminisce, and then she’d drop the bomb: You should stay!

We strolled along the beach as she pointed out various attractions, like a tour guide trying a little too hard. “Look! Crystal-clear lagoons! Coconut palms! A rainbow! And over there—unlimited piña coladas!”

I was still wary, but something peculiar started happening as she led me deeper into this dreamland. Every time I tried to walk a little farther from her, the scene seemed to reset. I’d end up back at the same tiki bar, sipping the same piña colada, no matter which direction I walked. It was as if I were caught in some bizarre, motherly version of the Twilight Zone.

At first, I chalked it up to a weird dream glitch. But then I noticed the tiny inconsistencies—like how the bartender at the tiki bar was my high school math teacher in a Hawaiian shirt. The ‘new’ beach she showed me was suspiciously identical to the previous one, with slightly different seashells arranged on the shore.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Finally, as I reached for my third magically replenished piña colada, I had a revelation.

“Wait a second.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Mom… is this whole place… rigged?”

She burst out laughing, caught red-handed. “Okay, fine! You got me! I may have… tweaked the dream a little to keep you here longer.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “You built an entire looping dream simulation to trick me into staying?”

She shrugged innocently. “I had time on my hands!”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Mom, I love you. And I love our dream getaways. But I still have things to do in my world. I can’t just pack up and move into the Great Beyond!”

She pouted, crossing her arms. “But you’d get to eat whatever you want without gaining weight!”

“Tempting,” I admitted, “but no.”

She groaned dramatically and flopped onto a beach chair that had materialized out of nowhere. “Ugh, you’re so stubborn! Just like your father. He didn’t want to move to Florida either.”

We both laughed and for a moment, it felt like we were back at the kitchen table, gossiping over café con leche.

“Alright,” she relented. “You win. But one day, you’ll see. This is the place to be.”

“I know,” I said, my heart squeezing at the thought. “But not yet.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “Promise me you’ll live fully.”

“I promise.”

As the dream faded, I caught one last glimpse of her, lounging in her chair, sipping a piña colada, and winking at me.

“You’re gonna love it here!”

I woke up hysterically laughing, realizing how elaborate her plan had been—and how long it had taken me to figure it out. But I also knew that she’d always be there no matter what, waiting with a piña colada and a mischievous grin.