Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Yes, this day was spent on reflection of that dream but it just now made sense after I double spaced. Before going to bed, my sister Rose called talking a hundred miles a minute. Rose, the artist who married the Jew, moved to Chicago and now has to wait tables so that her kids can eat like kings. (her words) Rose, the red headed sister of mine who was an actress and always wanted to meet David Letterman. She laughs louder than most, can carry seven folded bath towels on top of her head, dancing and singing jazz. My stomach hurts when we're together from laughing.
Before going to bed last night, I did feel angry because she didn't hear me or let me finish my sentence. If dreams are there to remind us of the importance of hearing the music and ignoring the broken pieces, I'm glad to have them! Thanks for letting me get this out. I hope you are the cord that plays music.