My mother once dreamt that she was being pursued by a group of men trying to kill her. They cornered her. She fought back. In the middle of the night, she lashed out and landed a right hook squarely on my father’s chin, knocking him out of bed. My brothers and I woke up to the sounds of his shriek of pain and her laughter.
Lulu (cousin Julia) came to spend the morning with us today. Last night, Leah and I set our alarms so we could be up and perky when Esther arrived. Leah fell asleep on the couch after watching five minutes of a movie. I made it through half an hour and then dropped myself into bed.
I dreamt I was playing high school football again. We were at the end of a practice. I had a football in my hands. What did I do with it? I took three steps and punted it. It was a perfect spiral, soaring into the air. But I’d done something wrong, because it hurt.
And then I woke up in seething pain. I had kicked the wall. Hard.
Leah woke up to me moaning in pain, and asked if I was ok. Before I could answer, our alarms went off. Great way to start off a Monday morning, eh?