Blue Maxima, licence 338 TGG, pulled out onto 10th without looking. I swerved, a very alert human in the oncoming lane swerved, the alert human behind me didn’t run into me, and as for crashstyle, you couldn’t pass your hand through the gap she left. She pulled in front of me. I followed her for ten blocks, watched her make TWO cell phone calls, pulled up next to her at 16th and 6th, and got a good look at her. I wanted to follow her some more. But I didn’t. Folks at work are teasing me to call it in. Why, so I can spend a f*cking day in court? Puhleeze, Louise. I have amazing reflexes for an old broad, and thank Darwin I had help.
If we had collided, we would have blocked a major traffic artery blocks from the turn off for the bridge. And it wouldn’t have been my f(cking fault, for once.
staying in John Madden’s boutique hotel, the Rose, which is GORGEOUS (and John M was actually there in the lobby bar the night we arrived, oddly enough but of course I had no reason to speak to him or harass him so I just smirked)… I had a dream.
About five in the morning the night before I came home, I dreamed that Katie K was taking me to meet a friend. We climbed the stairs to say hi and the woman took one look at me and started screaming “What is she doing here? I don’t want to meet her, get her out of here!” I obligingly booked it down the stairs and out into the street and across the street to a little park, where I sat down on a bench. I felt warmth next to me and turned my head.
John was sitting there, dressed in black, and hatless (which would not be normal at this time of year… felt like Vancouver on an overcast day). His hair had grown out a little and he had a much better pair of glasses, but it was John all right – nobody looks, smells and sounds like him. He commiserated with me briefly on my contretemps, and then, and a couple of times he laughed, that breathless chuckle, and then with that same brainwoosh that had accompanied the sensation of him joining me on the bench, I realized I was dreaming. I don’t lucid dream, at all, and it’s actually been many months since I had a memorable dream. As soon as I realized I was dreaming, I knew John was dead, and I was FINALLY getting my visitation dream, which I have longed for.
“What took you so long?” I asked.
He smiled. And we all know that shit eating grin. And just like the Cheshire Cat, he faded, and left the grin hanging in the air for a few seconds, and then I woke up.
I’ve been a little teary for the last few days, because honestly I had given up. Somehow my brain gave me permission to let him visit, and I am so, so glad. Cried my eyes out at the Remembrance Day service yesterday at church, because I’d been going to say his name and Tom did it for me.