by DT
The raw statement my mother launched at my brother during their heated argument shook me. That night I dreamed of my father. He had died in an auto accident during which he had suffered a heart attack.
My father had actually died of a heart attack. He had not been driving, had instead instructed my mother to drive. They had been on their way to get me from a minister’s home.
I had attended a youth conference with the minister and his wife. My father had keeled over en route sending my mother back home and calling the paramedics who efforts could not revive my father.
In my dream, a high way patrol officer delivers me the news of my father’s death. I am the only person at home. I look to the sky, envision the weather vane sitting atop the roof of our house. It is pointing west, the direction of the wind blowing.
(to be continued …)
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