Perchance to Dream
I awoke on a Saturday morning, almost seven months after the stroke, via a distinct dream. I did not want to be late for a 10 a.m. memorial service for the son of a colleague. A few days earlier, tragically, he had fallen or jumped from a high place. I had just had lunch with this fine boy and his mother a few weeks ago, when we had spotted each other at a restaurant in our local shopping center. I’d always had a high opinion of my colleague. Indeed, she was one of the few in the department whom I considered to be “glue”. And her son, a recent college graduate, was bright and full of promise. I wondered how my colleague and her family would cope with this unthinkable event.