Reflecting

 I had some interesting dreams last night and I wanted to share one with you, my adoring public.

I was vacationing at some sort of resort not unlike the one in Dirty Dancing. My bungalow was situated near a long wooden bridge, beneath which ran a river. Behind the bungalow was a huge backyard and a brand-new chain-link fence; on the other side of the fence were untamed woods. I must have had ALS because I had a caregiver, a short, stooped over woman who sported a platinum blonde beehive hairdo and bright red lipstick. The presence of my caregiver notwithstanding, I got about perfectly well by myself. My cat, Lydia, lived with me along with a tiny, puffy, white kitten.

When I opened the back door to go outside, the little kitten escaped and sped like a bullet toward the chain-link fence. I knew she would be killed if she made it into the woods so I cried out to people who were in the yard to catch her, but no one heard me because my voice wasn't loud enough. I tried running after her but my legs would not move.

I found myself walking down a street -- there were dogs and cats everywhere, and each one had a tiny, fluffy kitten. I remember thinking that a cat in the neighborhood must have had babies.

I walked until I reached the bridge. My caregiver kept disappearing to take phone calls from Malcolm (whoever he is) but I wasn't worried because I knew my mother was there to help me -- I could see her on the bridge.

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I've had plenty of dreams about my mother since she died more than 15 years ago, but she is always WITHOUT EXCEPTION in a mirror.  Until last night.