I dreamed that my grandmother laid moments away from death. She had her arms spread out wide as if she were free-falling or in flight. She was smiling, and as the sounds in the space centered to a silent swelling point, I heard her say. “Praise God!”. There was a flash of light, and her body was taken. All that was left was this strange stone cast or something like a reverse impression. The eye of the right side of her face was fixed on me with a red gleam in it, but she was gone.
Since I started working from home my sleep schedule has been awful. Particularly this holiday season, I’m struggling. It easily becomes more than just not sleeping. It translates into lonely hour of no human activity while you’re stuck in a room in the middle of a dreary Dallas suburban home after everyone has gone to sleep.
Regretting things. Considering things. Wishing things.
it’s been miserable, but worse things have been before. I have to remember how bad it can be. I have to remember the consistent coughing up of phlegm due to my poor choices. I have to remember that my decisions are not other people’s, and that my faith is not equal to my religious practice.
I’m not who I was ten years ago any more, and it shows.
