Yesterday I did not feel good. I don't have a cold or the flu; these are not my symptoms. I try to not talk about my health on social media or in my blogs, but I have to share about the dream I had.
I slept yesterday, and then I was in bed by 9 PM, which is unheard of for me. I was running a low-grade fever and just was not myself. In my dream, I was lying on the floor of my childhood bedroom at 313 Irene Street. I had a big furry blanket over me and was in and out of consciousness. I remember my mother floated in and put a thermometer in my mouth. I could feel her presence. Then I woke up.
I loved that sweet dream because my mother checked on me. In the real world, it would most likely have been my dad to do the checking. Either way, I am blessed by the love my parents showed me even when I could not return it. God is so very good to me.