A Book That Took 30 Years to be Born
A Foretelling Dre a m In 1992, at the age of 42, I had gotten my first apartment all to myself with no kids, no family, and no man to consider. It was wonderful! It was so satisfying to buy everything new and decorate it with only my tastes to consider. But then something unremembered happened and I too k a nosedive into a black hole of my own making. For three days I curled up on the couch in a fetal position battered and bruised by life with no hope of escape. The boys were so worried about me that they called just about every hou r to check in with me. No doubt, I tried to reassure them that I was okay, but I wasn’t in the least okay. It was a very deep, very dark hole and I felt alone without even a glimmer of hope. It was on the third day , Easter Sunday , that the dream came. In it the black hole of despair was poignant and all too real. And then l looked up to see a glimmer of light with a backdrop of blue skies. That little ray of sunshine was a beacon of hope that