As we packed my mother’s belongings, my sister and I found scissors everywhere… scissors we could never find when we needed them, of course. These are a sampling with which we awkwardly spelled out « MOM, » with a backdrop of the afghan I saved.
My husband noticed something was wrong.
At first I hesitated. Then I told him, « No, it’s stupid. »
« I can tell something is wrong, what is it? »
« You’re going to think this is stupid. Actually, it is stupid. Ridiculous… [long pause]
« … Last night, I dreamed of an afghan. »
Lest he think I meant an Afghan rather than the knitted blanket I envisioned, I hurriedly clarified:
« I have been thinking of the afghan I didn’t take from my mother’s house — and wishing I had. Last night, I dreamed that I got the afghan back; this morning, I awoke and found I hadn’t… It’s stupid. It’s…
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