Lucille took her calendar out of her pocketbook to see if she needed to get her light bill and burial insurance premiums off in the mail. “Well, I say, Jenny. The twenty-ninth will be your daddy’s birthday. He’d a been seventy-four if he’d a lived! I guess that’s the good thing about dying young. You don’t never git old. In my mind, he’s still twenty-one and here I am sixty-eight. He wouldn’t have no use for an old granny my age. That just made me remember a dream I had a dream about me and your daddy last night. I was the way I am now, gray hair, sore knees, and hobblin’ around my arthritis is acting up. Any, I was somewhere that kind’a looked like a park, just a wooded area with a grassy patch and a rail fence along side a row of pine trees. The wind was a’blowin’ the pines like they was singing. The grass was just as green as it could be……looked so soft and cool, it seemed like it would a’felt good to rolled in it. There was a rocky stream between me and your daddy. He was a’sittin’ up on the top rail of that high fence, just as unconcerned as he could be, just the way he’d a’done when he was a young man. He saw me and was just a’wavin’ at me to come on over, a’smiling like I was the purtiest thing he ever seen….like I was a young woman.
I knew I had to git over to him, but the path down to that stream was sloped and kind’a rocky, a challenge if you’re not nimble as a goat. I started over his way, and didn’t have no trouble at all, though I was trying not to slip. Once I waded that stream, I just run like a girl and jumped up on that fence with him, without thinkin’ twice. I looked down and saw I was just as young and spry as though no time had passed since I first seen him. We was just tickled to death to be together, again. I don’t feel a bit worried about dyin’ now. I don’t want to leave you girls, but I know we’ll all be together again. I’m glad I had that dream. It sure makes me look forward to seeing your daddy, again.”
Jenny spoke to her mother pensively. “Mama, that was a wonderful dream, but I don’t want to think of ever losin’ you. I don’t know how I’d go on. I depend on you for so much. Do you think that was a sign?”
Lucille took Jenny’s soft hand in her weathered one. “Jenny, I don’t believe the Lord is through with me yet, but if I do go, I’ll be ready. Sometimes, I think we git a little visit from our loved ones who’ve passed on, ’cause they probably miss us, too. I am glad I have that little visit with your daddy. It helped relieve my worries.
Read all the reviews and BUY the book: https://www.amazon.com/Everything-Smells-Just-Like-Salad-ebook/dp/B01IVUXROQ
nutsrok.wordpress.com 