The Emergency Room Visit
I find an empty chair in a crowded emergency waiting area. I have a bad case of the flu and feel like I am going to die.
Seated across from me are three young girls and their mother. I assume their ages to be around 5, 7 and 9 years of age. The youngest and most vocal of the three, Denise says, "Let's play a game." I think, 'Oh great, noisy kids.'
Seated two chairs down from this noisy trio are a woman and a young girl. This girl is about three years old. The woman asks the girls, "Can Michelle play with you?" The girls seem reluctant. Denise frowns and says, "This game is too hard for a little kid."
About five minutes later Denise seems to feel guilty. She goes over and asks, "Michelle would you like to play a game with us?" Michelle eagerly joins the group. Great! More noise!
It's half an hour later. I have a splitting headache from the enthusiastic romping of the four girls. I swear I'm going home to die in peace.
The girls are into their fourth or fifth game. The woman with Michelle touches her arm and says, "I have to go." Michelle hugs this woman and begs her to stay. This woman wipes a tear from Michelle's face and says, "No darling I must."
She asks the Mom of the three girls, "Will you watch Michelle, It will only be a few minutes?" The Mom shrugs. "Well if it's just for a few minutes, my husband will be ready to leave soon." The woman assures the girls Mom it will only be a few minutes and she leaves.
True to her word in just a few minutes she returns. But she's frantic and her hair is in disarray. She says "Oh thank God! Michelle I've been looking all over for you!" Michelle smiles and says loudly "Mama!"
At this point I know I'm confused. Denise says, "You just left!" Michelle's Mom disagrees, "No I've been looking for her for the past hour."
Upon closer inspection Denise and I realize this is not the same woman. Denise says, "Oh no your not her. She looks like you but she's old. She walked with a limp and she was wearing a blue shirt with yellow flowers."
Michelle's Mom sits down visibly shaken. I start to ask, but Denise beats me to it, "Are you OK? She answers, with tears in her eyes, "Yes I'll be alright." She looks at me and then Denise. "That woman was my Mother," her voice breaking, "She died more than an hour ago."
I was inspired to post this after reading Jan-Oskar-Hasen's blog posted on Feb. 7th.
Of course my entry was inspired by a dream I had a few years ago.