VisDare 140: I Waited

1. It’s not that I didn’t have dreams. It’s just that they never fit comfortably into my everyday life.

   “Wait,” I whispered to my dreams.

   “Not here,” I admonished my fire.

   “As soon as I’m not so busy,” I told my muse.

   Today when my granddaughter left my hospital room she forgot her notebook. I read the speech she is writing to give at my funeral.

   “She loved her family. She kept her house tidy and liked to garden. She was sweet and gentle and will be missed.” Her handwriting trails off as if she searched, but could find nothing else to say.

   There is no mention of the books I wrote or the mountains I climbed or the music I made. I never quite had time to do those things. She won’t mention my laugh that could be heard two blocks away, or my over the top flirtatiousness, or how I would randomly break into song and dance. Those things are not appropriate once a woman reaches a certain age so I hid them away before she was born. There’s nothing there about the travel I never managed or the charity work I wanted to do but never quite had the time.

   Dreams fade over time. Fire fades. Muses move on.

   I picked up the pen with a shaking hand and finished my granddaughter’s eulogy of me.

   “She did what was expected of her. She always fit in.”