The next day they both got some nasty virus and were as sick as they'd ever been.
I clearly remember a trip John and I took to Vermont before we were married during which I was telling him about this blog I read written by this woman who had lost her husband to cancer. She was trying to conceive their children with sperm they had banked before her husband started his treatment. I was telling John how much pain I felt for this woman for her loss and for her having to create a future that honored her late husband but didn't include him. I expounded on how I could not imagine being able to make the decision she was making; it just seemed too hard.
Well, it's not so different from my situation now.
When we found out that John had "spots" in his liver (ha! spots! the doctors really call them that. sounds so innocuous.) but didn't yet know what his actual diagnosis was, we naively thought he must have liver cancer. Liver cancer is pretty grim. In an attempt to cheer us up, a friend said, "Well, at least it's not pancreatic cancer! That kills everyone!"
Ha, "joke" was on us.
My point here is that I find examples large and small in my life of instances that prove that I should follow the old adage and never say never. It's when I say never that karma or Murphy or God or a god or who- or whatever shows up to prove me wrong.
Three days ago, I stated right here on this blog that I don't dream about people I know well. Last night, I dreamed about Maddie and Riley in one dream and Mr. Coffee in another. My dreams, like my personality, are usually very practical, the kinds of mundane things that could happen in real life.* Last night was no exception. In the dream about Maddie and Riley, I was all excited because I was out shopping and found these cute little wallets for them. They are obsessed with my wallet and have been asking me for wallets of their own. In my dream, I was at some knick-knacky kind of store, and I found a two-pack of old-school velcro wallets that would be perfect for M&R. So I bought them and took them home and the kids were all excited and that was that. Snooze.
I woke up from that dream, quickly feel back asleep, and promptly dreamed about Mr. Coffee. We went out to dinner. It was nice, romantic. At the end of the meal, I quite without warning or any lead-in whatsoever said, "You know what? I love you."
And then I woke up for the day.
Dreams have never felt to me like some kind of expression of unspoken desire or working out of troubled thoughts. I rarely remember them, and when I do, there's not much worth telling.** I've certainly in real life had no urge to blurt out "I love you" to Mr. Coffee. We have yet to establish what our relationship is/could be/should be, for crying out loud. In any case, the dream was surprising. Ultimately, it's just a dream.
*Of course, now I'm going to have some crazy time-travelling fantasy dream.
**OK, once I dreamed that I was the second coming of Christ, but that's something that I should probably discuss with my therapist.