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Chapter Eight
Where Do We Go From Rock Bottom?
Advice From An Expert
The family room was warm, and glowed with natural light,
despite the fact that the temperature hovered near zero and the sun
was more than an hour from rising. The light of a full moon
streamed in the comer window, and the fading embers of last
night's fire gave off enough heat to keep away the chill.
Dressed only in my nightgown, I still felt warm, cocooned
on my couch, alone in the near-dawn solitude.
I'd been up for almost an hour now, awakened by a dream
about Mom - a nightmare really. In it, I was so tired I couldn't get
out of my chair to go to her bedside when she called me. Her weak
voice had penetrated my deep sleep, calling over and over: "Gin?
Gin?" But my body hadn't been able to respond. I couldn't wake up
to go to her.
I'd awakened with tears in my eyes.
I had lain there in the dark for some time after waking, reassuring myself I had nothing to regret. I'd been attentive and loving
during Mom's illness, and she had died peacefully, with me holding
her hand and kissing her gently.
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