Blog, I Had a Dream

This is my dream from last night:

The fingers of my left hand are drumming the air. I notice and think, "Oh, my God, my hand is moving." I run to this sick sad looking little boy wearing a blue t-shirt. I tell him, "Look," while I move my left hand around. I tell him, "You're going to be okay, you need to give your body time." I repeat this to him a couple of times more. And then I run (no weak left leg either) looking for my family. While I'm looking I keep talking to my brain, telling it, "You rock, you found the way to you arm, you found the way to your arrm." I find my daughter but she doesn't seem to grasp the miracle it is that my "stroked" hand is fine again. So I keep running. I find my mother, I show her my hand. She comes toward me and gives me a hug. The bittersweetness of this is that right behind her is my daddy and in that same position, they give me a crushing hug. It's here that I start sobbing when I'm telling Husband about my dream, because my daddy has been dead for 28 years.

So we're convinced that I need to do exactly what I told the sad little boy to do, give my body time to find the way to its left extremities once again.

May God bless this dream, may the signs be His to comfort me in my impatience.

Amen,

Margarita