Sunday, July 24, 2022

so, last night I dreamed about my mother

The night after blogging about my mother, I dreamed about her.

She was in the hospital in her last days. I fed her ice cream, as I did then, and talked to her and held her.

Then, I talked to Bern's mother about it, in my dream.

Not sure that really happened.

Dreams are amazing.

A vision of your soul.

Mothers are, for the most part, unless abusive, dreams and visions.

I've been thinking about my mother, Cleo, and Bern's mother, Emma.

I prayed for them today at the Eucharist during the prayers of the people, when folks are invited to pray for those who have died.

I have no idea what my prayer did.

But I hope against hope Cleo and Emma knew of it.

 

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About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.