I’m not even sure there was a Five Minute Friday party last night. I poked my head in around 9 to see what was going on and to see if there was anything good to eat – but the room was almost empty. Seems everyone was super busy last night and they were bobbing in and out. One of the most faithful of party-go’er’s, Tara, was at a Garth Brooks concert but she did manage to pop in and say hello. Our host, Kate Motaung, must have scheduled the prompt to post at 9:45 sharp. Hubs and I were watching a movie or I would’ve been a bit more attentive. Kate, you’re the life of the party, and you were MISSed.
The word is MISS.
It’s Mother’s Day weekend and I know this holiday is a mixed emotion day. Some beam. Some agonize. Some grieve. Some savor. Yet, it comes. Year after year.
Ma, I had a dream about you Thursday morning, pre-dawn dream so I remember it well. We were in someone’s kitchen getting coffee. Gary was there and he was sick. You and I were standing eye to eye talking – well you were doing most of the talking and we were all discussing being sick. Gary was bemoaning his age and we kind of looked at each like, WHAT? And, his ailments. I said, “Well, we can ask God to heal us – we’re allowed to do that.” And, at the same time (you owe me a coke, no tags back), we said, “King Hezekiah asked and got 15 more years.” It was so funny that we said the exact same words at the exact same time. We did! And, then we high-fived each other.
I woke up. I smelled coffee wafting from our kitchen.
I miss you.