This morning my Mom called. She seem to be okay after getting such bad news the other day about her bestfriend being killed in a car accident. I guess her friend was in a roll over type accident and actually got out of the car and was able to walk to the ambulance. At the hospital she was still conscious and was able to give the staff there her daughter's phone number. When she started having trouble breathing they tried to intubate her. That's when they lost her. An autopsy is being done early this week. Then the wake is Wednesday (also my Mom's birthday) and the funeral is Thursday. My sister and her boyfriend were visiting my Mom so I'm glad they were there to take her out to lunch.
It still seems surreal to me. I've been able to bury myself in work or in chores around the house this weekend but last night I couldn't escape the feeling of loss when I dreamt of my Mom's friend. I was in an older train. Years ago I traveled from London to Nottingham with my family in this type of train. I also road in one as a child and still remember waving to my Mom from the window as she followed along in the car. Anyways, I was walking through this train and there would be these men dressed in uniform at each train car. They would open the door to let you pass through. I felt like I was looking for someone. I could hear the sounds of the train and also felt like I had to keep shifting to keep my balance. It was so life like. Finally, as I walked through one last train car, there was a woman I recognized sitting to the left and gazing out the window at the scenary. It was my Mom's friend Barbara. She was dressed in a pale pink shift dress with her hands resting in her lap. She appeared much younger than the last time I saw her. Late teens, early 20s maybe. The light coming in the window illuminated her face and she was smiling very peacefully. She didn't see me and continued to gaze at the fields we were passing as if she were in deep thought. I woke up and thought, wow. That was intense. I told my Mom that I had dreamed about Barbara but I didn't elaborate. My Mom's cried enough lately and I knew I would not be able to repeat the dream without bursting into tears myself.
And now onto lighter subjects….
If Tomorrow Is the First Day of Fall Then Why Does It Still Feel Like Summer?
Each year I forget that it does not get cold here until at least December. That's if you can consider a high of 60 degrees cold. All the stores are selling their Halloween decorations right now. Ruben and I are craving comfort food like you read about. I so want to break the crock pot out and start baking a few apple pies.
To the left is my latest Walmart purchase; Indian corn. We had this on our door every year when I grew up in Boston. The birds would pick it clean after awhile. It's appearance meant cool weather, cloudy days, and colorful flourescent leaves in shades of orange and yellow would be forthcoming.
I took this picture not too long ago and it is 101 degrees today. I actually burnt my feet standing on the walkway to take the picture. LOL. But hey, I can dream, can't I? I almost bought a pumpkin to place on the front step but I envision my neighbors asking me where that cooked squash smell was coming from. Unless there is an unforeseen ice age that happens to befall upon us, there shall be no frost on any pumpkins in this neck of the woods. –Ever.
We made the final payment on our cruise at Christmas yesterday. This has been booked for almost a year. I was thinking we had until the end of October to pay for it so it took me by surprise when my sister called from Ohio to let me know it was due this Monday. The good news is that we got a smoking deal on a cabin with a balcony due to the fact that Ruben is ex-military. My husband is the gift that keeps on giving, I swear. Although we love to travel, we both decided that this is going to be it for awhile, as far as big vacations are concerned. We wanted to go to Europe next year but decided to wait until the following year. Ruben wants to visit family in Mexico. I said as long as we weren't going to be riding there in an old converted school bus filled with mariachi singers and people holding chickens on their laps while goats graze in the aisle, then I was game. He reassured me that we would most likely fly to Guadelajara and no one would be permitted to bring any livestock on. I may not be so lucky as far as the mariachis are concerned. I better brush up in case there is a sing-a-long.
"Ay yi yi yi, canta no llorno!" (When in Rome, right?)