I was helping my mom pack. My sister was tired. She had done it for the past couple of months and couldn’t do it anymore. My mom was melancholic, wanting to take everything. So, I took over, separating what to take and what to throw away. I was almost done when the mover showed up. The “to-take” pile was still huge but manageable. As I did the final walk through, I was still finding things in the drawers and on the half-empty shelves. Both my father’s and my husband’s stuff were there, and I murmured apologies each time I put them in a “throw-away” box.
Then, I woke up. I had been dreaming.
I called my mom. She was packing her last boxes and was surprised to get a call from me.
“Isn’t it the middle of the night over there?”
I told her about my dream. She laughed and said,
“Everything is fine here. Now, go back to sleep.”
She is moving today.