Dreams
Love in the Lost and Found
In January, 2016, my 94-year-old mom, Ruby, fell in her bathroom in Tucson, Arizona. A blood clot traveled from her hip, still bruised and sore from two falls the previous week, to her brain, causing a massive stroke. Minutes after the ambulance crew wheeled Mom into the hospital, my brother, John, who’d moved to Tucson…
Read MoreGates, Dreams, and Feral Chickens
Suddenly, I awoke from a dream: I look through my sheer living room curtains. Barry’s BMW and my Hyundai sit side by side in the darkened garage. The streetlight shining in front of our house illuminates a man between our cars walking toward our house. He doesn’t look threatening. I don’t know him. I’d recognize…
Read MoreFollow Your Dreams
Dreams are today’s answers to tomorrow’s questions. –Edgar Cayce Did you ever dream about insignificant things that actually happened later? I once dreamed that a plastic planter hanging from a tree outside my window broke and the plant inside it splattered on the ground. The next morning, the planter fell. Sometimes, I wake up from…
Read MoreMy Last Valentine
Barry’s nickname, Ashtar the Magnificent, came about because of his psychic—he called it psycho—ability. I only had to be in the same room with him to feel better. I wrote briefly about falling in love with my partner Barry 13 years after Vic died (a coworker hunk I’d secretly been in love with), toward the…
Read MoreAn Epiphany on Epiphany
Living in the countryside of central Spain in the early sixties felt magical for 8-year-old me. I still remember our home address: Patrocinio (he who gives his protection), Gomez (man) Tres (three), Canillejas (a region 5 miles northeast of Madrid). Although roving bands of gypsies traveled in tattered wagons through the countryside, these fast-change artists…
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