Say That It’s Only a Dream

Sometime this morning ...

I dream that I am teaching again. Two classes, and, of course, as usual, I am not quite prepared for the start of the semester; in fact, I am not even sure which room my second class is located in, but it’s OK because this is the first day, and no one else has a clue, either, really.

Next, I am going with my parents and my sister and Kameron to a swimming pool. We see Meredith, and Mom invites her to go with us. (She is sick, I know, but she looks good. She is much younger — about my age, now, only I am my age, also.)

“I’ll go,” she tells me, “but will you be able to drive me home later?”

I tell her I will.

The pool is more crowded than we expected. Meredith sits in a chair at the far side of the pool deck. My step-siblings are there, too, but they are inside, so before I jump into the pool, I go inside and give them each a kiss on the cheek. Then Kam and I get into the pool.

Later, I look over at Meredith and see that she is shaking, ever so slightly, from the cold. Even though it is warm out, and she is wearing a navy-blue fleece sweater.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask her, and she nods.

“Just let me make one lap around the pool,” she says, and she takes off walking.

I see her, in the distance, making the turn as the path curves to the left.

... and then I wake up, and for the first few seconds, I believe that she is still alive. And then I remember that she is not.