I found myself calling her “sweetie” in a text message
and later when I hugged her good morning.
I’ve known her for over 20 years and
I’ve never called her “sweetie” before.
The day before, we’d made a plan
for me to take her
to get her bloodwork done today.
Then, early this morning,
I woke from a vivid dream:
I was on my way to get her, and
I saw her driving by in a red Volkswagon Bug.
I turned around and found her
parked at a gas station,
bald and crawling on her brittle limbs,
telling me she was looking for baby toys.
And now, at 5am, her text was there on my phone.
She said she could drive herself, since she wasn’t
on morphine and she was clear-headed.
She added a little
red car emoji and suddenly
I worried that she’d taken the car keys and
wandered out
while her husband slept soundly
in the basement.
I texted back,
“Sweetie, you aren’t allowed
to drive anymore.
I’ll be there at 7.”
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