I had a very strange dream last night. I was in the middle of teaching math to my fourth graders, and my phone started ringing. When I answered the phone, it was the voice of my mom from a great distance, hard to hear. Her voice sounded thin, tinny, and quavery. She said, "I love you well enough." Then she followed this with "Don't worry, he's coming."
Who is coming? I've spent the whole morning thinking about this. Who? Jesus? A new president? The husband, mentioned prominantly in my patriarchal blessing? Victor, from Silver Leaf Tree Service? The answer is unclear.
I wish that I could have heard more from my mom. The phrasing on her first sentence is relevant to conversations and thoughts that I've had recently. It's some kind of eerie answer. Anyway, my alarm went off, and woke me up at an inopportune time. I have been waking up at daily at 6 a.m., riding my bicycle around the block, and then getting back into bed. So, all I have are the two sentences.
I'm relieved that nothing was mentioned about my disposal of her entire life's wardrobe. When I cleaned out her storage bedroom, before she passed away, so that her hospital bed could be in a separate room from my dad's bed, she was furious. I got an earful. Pretty sure that most of the occupants in neighboring rooms at her care home felt the wrath, too. So, it was refreshing that the clothing removal didn't rate a mention.
Now, just he who?
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