My Dream

I have this dream and it’s probably going to sound super lame–I’ve been confined to the same hospital room since Tuesday except for that one thrilling trip to the ct scan, surely I had time to come up with something better. Like touring the Loire valley in France and tiptoeing through fairy tale castles or going to Japan for cherry blossom season and picnicking under the falling blossom petals.

But this is what I’ve actually been dreaming about:

I pop out of bed in the morning in our new house, throw on a fuzzy robe (such vigor! Such strength!), make my way downstairs (look at how she is fully upright with no support! No sign of pain! Not a drop of weakness!) and into the kitchen. I casually stand at the counter, get the water boiling, pick out a mug and a teapot, and peruse the tea selection. I set my tea to steep (she’s STILL standing!) and wander through the house, thinking about where the art might go on the walls, which books to put in the built-in next to the fireplace. My tea finished steeping, I pour it into the mug (how is she doing this? She just keeps going!), and take it outside to my front steps and nestle in next to our Halloween pumpkin to watch the world go by.

Yes, that is my dream. Seriously. It’s what I think about as I’m drifting off to sleep.

I just found out I’m going home today.

And I’m feeling kind of mighty after being a helpless squishy piece of jello for the better part of the last two weeks.

Tomorrow, perhaps, could the dream really happen???

Stay tuned.

Love,

Bridget

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8 Comments

  1. Oh Bridget, glad you are going home. Just got off the conference call with Cailin, Jess, and Kristen. It’s gonna be a fabulous auction! Here’s to your dream coming true.

  2. I hope your dream comes true, Bridget, not just tomorrow, but every single day for years and years and years.

    I’m sure you’ll be so happy to be home with your kitties. Cats have special healing energy, you know. Tell them to get on the ball.

  3. Welcome (almost) home, Bridget. If you don’t know the book, try to get your hands on a copy of a lovely old PB called The Maggie B. by Irene Haas. Just right for reading while cozy at home with warm cup of tea.

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