Waiting

I dreamt I was waiting with my friends in a crowded tower. It reminded me of Sunday school. The feeling of waiting, the fear of your parents maybe not showing up. The cold rain and bleak quiet of waiting beside the principal. The relief when dad finally showed up. Something at work. Machine broke down. Ghostly squeak of sneakers on the basketball court.

Jacq got married yesterday. She used to talk to me about boy problems. I was her mini therapist. I think she’s pursuing psychotherapy. After spending child years listening to child problems, I decided I didn’t want to anymore. You should be a therapist, people once said. But I got tired of absorbing things that weren’t mine.

She probably dreamed of this day for years. Of being a princess in a land far, far away. Her man and prince and king and suitor decked in shining armor. Even her ruffled dress attested to this dream I bet she always dreamt.

Years ago, I had, oddly, dreamt of her funeral. It was surreal. We haven’t spoken in a decade. In the dream, I hadn’t known she’d passed. We were in a large water garden with arches and concrete slabs and glistening coffins. There was the distant echo of hippos. Alligators. It was calm, serene. Quiet. Like this lake.

I’m happy for her.

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