Glimpses

In my dream, I first hear her on the phone. Or maybe it is from a distance. We had been talking about nothing, then she says, "Well it looks like today is the day. That day every year when I realize it's time to quit."

Immediately my mind sharpens and I realize she's been smoking again. Part of my mind taps on my shoulder and whispers (so I guess she's still alive here?). I shrug it off for the moment, focusing instead on the topic at hand. I don't feel the usual panic, but do register a dull feeling of dismay. Doesn't she realize about the oxygen? Doesn't she know she's going to die, probably with emphysema? But I encourage her.

"It's a good time to stop," I say with a careful voice. Her emotions were always like a great flock of blackbirds. The wrong tone could send them bursting out of the trees, off into the air with no one really leading their undulating, swooping swarm until inexplicably they would land again. Maybe along a wire.

"But we still have to go through...." here's where the dream gets fuzzy. I know she referred to him - something he hadn't done yet. Maybe it was a medical procedure. Maybe it was his death. Tap tap tap (he's still alive then, too?). I flash to an image of him propped up in a hospital bed. But is he really there? Yes, he's unconscious and very pale. The room is bright white and cold.

But I am so tired.

Suddenly we are talking in person. She is bustling around the room, getting ready. No tubes leading to the oxygen machine, I note. Not yet. I am in K's bed, but it's really J's room. Of course it is. And I am so sleepy, but don't want her to know. I want her to know I am also listening, paying attention. She tells me she has to go as I finally let me eyes close. Maybe she won't mind after all. I feel my body heavy in the bed, my bent knees slowly lowering to the side as I slip deeper. And as I go, I feel her approach me. I feel her hand on my heart, warm and steady, saying goodbye. She leaves just as I let sleep carry me away.