Make of it what you will

I’m prone to dreaming awake or asleep. This dream happened in the early morning hours when the lines between awake and asleep blur. My doctor used to say that only the dreamer understands the meaning of dreams, so make of it what you will.

In my dream a lovely class of Kindergarteners was lined up outside under big trees. There were teachers around. There seemed to be no hurry, no emergency, no reason for being lined up outside. It was just a warm, sunny morning. I stood nearby unencumbered.

The Kindergarten class spontaneously broke into song. It began as “You’re a Grand Old Flag” but then morphed into a mash-up with “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Surprisingly, the songs worked well together. The children smiled with enthusiasm.

One little girl looked at me eagerly and said, “Do you know why we sing it that way?”

“No,” I said.

“Because of ME!”

She was so proud. I think she might be on to something–love of country should feel like Christmas. “Forever in peace may you wave.”

Thank you to all who make this writing space
a place of safety, support, and beauty.

A Mother’s Work is Never Done

Tonight, I am tired. My children are all grown with children of their own, yet my mothering is not yet finished. I don’t want it to ever be finished. In the last 24 hours, I have had conversations with each of my children and my husband. I am no expert on any of the topics below, but I found it interesting when I stopped to consider the content of our conversations. It’s no wonder I’m tired.

Topics discussed in no particular order:

Zillow listings for purchase of a house.
Zestimates.
Is it a bad idea to finance a down payment?
The Landlord called.
Rent increase because of 13% HOA increase.
A baby’s projectile vomiting.
Kindergarten interview for admission to a private school.
Summer jobs for teens.
Receiving tenure as a professor.
Gallbladder attack and acute cholecystitis.
Recommendation of a surgeon.
Pandemic weariness.
Misinformation and mask controversies.
Spring break with stepchildren.
What’s for dinner?
Medical records for taxes.
A1C numbers.
Anti-inflammatory diets.
Gauge swatches for knitting.
What’s for dinner? Again.

As my father used to say, “Life is real.”

Glad to be here.