Reflections in the window of an elegant Lebanese restaurant, Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn
"This is your daughter-in-law in Canada," I say into the telephone, trying to enunciate each word. I know he won't know who it is if I merely say, "It's Beth."
"Yes!" he says, but I'm still not sure he knows who it is. He pauses, then speaks; he's decided it's me. "I've been thinking about you - I haven't heard much from you lately and I wanted to know everything was all right."
"It is. My father was here, so I've been busy."
"Did he have a good time?"
"Yes, I think so; he went to the golf tournament and I was happy to see how much better his legs are now. We had a good time - too short - but it was fine. How are YOU?"
"Not good," he says. "I feel lonely and in a pretty unsettled state...I can't read any more, I can barely walk, and there's no one to talk to here...I really don't ever remember feeling like this in my life. I think the final chapter should be written soon!"
"Ohhh..."I say, because I can't think of anything else that feels appropriate but some sort of sympathetic sound.
"No, really. It's not very enjoyable." He sounds fine, though - pretty cheerful and strong, and then his voice gets even more animated and bright. "But I dreamed of M." (his late wife) "last night! It was an amazing dream. I don't ever remember dreaming of her quite like this - she was healthy, and happy, and we were having a very good meeting, laughing and talking...and at the end she said, 'don't go!' I woke up...but I wasn't really awake. I got out of bed and went into the next room, thinking she was there... but she wasn't. And then I really was awake. It was kind of disappointing to find myself awake in my apartment!"
"How strange!"
"Yes, it really was a strange dream. But very pleasant!" He paused for a minute and laughed. "Almost better than life!"
A *true* dream. How beautiful is that!
Posted by: Scott Hankins | October 01, 2007 at 08:31 PM
How sweet. I remember my father dreaming of my mother, then coming upstairs to look for her, forgetting that she was no longer with us!
Posted by: marja-leena | October 02, 2007 at 04:07 AM
Oh my, how sharp he is. You know, I've pretty much always felt that intelligence per se was worth much less than kindness, or a capacity for happiness, or for connection. But sometimes, hearing about your father-in-law, I think perhaps there's more to be said for a sharp mind than I sometimes think, perhaps especially when the body is failing and most of the objects of love and relationship have left us.
Posted by: Jean | October 02, 2007 at 05:04 AM
It's certainly served him well, and the funny thing is that he's mellowed a lot in his last years - perhaps because some of his best friends at this retirement home have been very kind, patient people.
Posted by: beth | October 02, 2007 at 06:46 AM
As my best friend lay dying in a hospice I dreamed of her.
She and her husband Tim were dancing.
Dressed in their finest clothes, tall and proud and perfectly in step they moved across the dance floor to the lilting sounds of a music that I couldn't hear.
She died shortly afterwards.
I like to hold onto the memory of that dream and remember her dancing...
Posted by: Mouse | October 02, 2007 at 07:10 AM
I love hearing your stories about your father-in-law. It's just sad to be watching him vicariously through you all these years and see him changing as he gets older. He seems so in love with life. Today I realized, though we've never met, how the interaction with you since we started blogging has truly grown into a friendship. None of us could have known this effect of blogging when we started. A nice gift.
Posted by: Miguel | October 14, 2007 at 12:41 AM
It's true - I feel that you and I are friends for sure, and see it as a gift too. Thank you for saying that. And I hope one day we WILL meet!
Posted by: beth | October 14, 2007 at 08:45 PM