Had been looking at the calendar yesterday, realizing that today—tonight, actually—is just a year from that long, long night when Mother wouldn't answer the phone and our last journey began together. I dreamt about her last night: not in her house, but in some strange large place with nooks and crannies and huge closets. We (although I don't remember who the other person was; it was a woman, though, not James) were waiting for someone to bring Mom home and for some reason couldn't call them to find out when, or even tell them we were there. It must have been winter outside because when Mom did show up, with a walker, she and whomever gave her the ride were in coats, but inside we had one of those big middle-of-the-room portable air conditioners going. [wry grin] I knew it was a dream: I haven't been able to wear flannel pajamas for the past two years because of the hot flashes, even in winter with the windows open, and here I was wearing them again.

Just as I was about to meet Mom at the door the dream ended. Damn...

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 7:27:00 AM

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