As I drifted in and out of sleep last night, I remembered a fine time I had with my dear friend Lydia, her family, and our friends.

Sharing a meal is a wondrous thing.  Imagine a long dining room table with ten human beings at the edges.  Lots of laughing, the occasional eloquent comment, and smiles all around.

Memories of past glories, hopes for the future, and a silent appreciation of being together now.

The champagne glasses were shining at each place setting … waiting to be filled.

And waiting some more …

I snapped awake at some wee hour.

I was supposed to bring the champagne!

I forgot!

I had erased that moment of long ago.  The empty glasses.  The confused looks.  The bowed head of Bruce.

Such sorrow at 3:00 am this morning.

I lay on my back, sinking into the mattress, wanting to hide from the world.

But then slowly it came to me:  The whole thing is a dream.  There was no dinner party with expectant champagne glasses.  I made it up in dreamland.

***

Here you see my bed, with the painting of Stonehenge above:

I don’t see the ancient monument.  I see a dreaming, facing the sky … a very good thing to see.

To sleep, perchance to dream

(William Shakespeare)