Ladybug

I had a dream about mama last night. She was taking all the family photos, putting them in metal frames and then into a freezer. She was so serious about this project that she was going to buy a second standing freezer to hold them all. I was appalled. I can remember feeling that way with her many times when she was alive.

“That’s a stupid idea!” I said with disdain in my voice and a scowl on my face. Immediately I felt guilty for using that word with her since a part of me knew she should receive only respect at this point in her journey.

“It’s called fusion.” she retorted in much the same tone and facial expression. I was arguing with my dead mother! Shouldn’t we be hugging, glad to see each other?

“It’s called condensation! That’s exactly what will happen when all these things start to thaw out. Everything will be ruined.” I felt my argument made more sense than hers. She didn’t even know what fusion meant.

Then I woke up. I felt cheated by that dream. I wanted to go back and say I was sorry.

At breakfast, my husband didn’t have any trouble explaining the dream to me. He said I was being “cold” to my family and this was her way of showing me how stupid I was. Mama wouldn’t have used a word like fusion. Neither would I for that matter. So I looked it up in the dictionary.

Fusion: 1. a fusing or melting together 2. the union of different things by or as if by melting; blending. I got it.

So what did I do? I looked for comfort at the place where mama had spoken through a waitress to me. I opened the door to the Waffle House and Dot called out “Hey there, Ladybug!” That was a nickname she gave me years ago when I would stop in for breakfast every morning. I like it. There was Anita telling me which section was hers, almost as if she were expecting me today. She cleaned my table, then stopped to cough. She was a frail woman who worked hard for her money. That was how mama seemed to me at the end. Anita was very attentive to me, calling me by name. It was easy for her to remember my name, because she has a daughter with the same name. When I told her the tea was sour, she rushed around and fixed a new batch. When she asked me if the food was good I, of course, said yes. I wanted to ask her how she was doing, but fearing her answer I didn’t. I just soaked up the life in her eyes and returned her smile. I know my mama uses this woman to care for me still.

It had been about a week since mama died when I came in for lunch that day. I didn’t know who the waitress was at that time. I didn’t look anybody in the eye. My grief was a heavy burden. I’m sure it was obvious by my drooping shoulders. I ordered the vegetable soup. I loved my mama’s vegetable soup. She would never make it for me again, so this would have to do. I was eating it as if her hands had stirred this very batch. I was thinking about one of our last conversations before she ended up in the hospital. We were on the phone. “I’m afraid I’ll forget what your voice sounds like,” I said like a child who didn’t want to be left alone by a parent. She laughed that beautiful soft laugh and said, “Don’t worry, you won’t”. I had just put a big spoon of steak vegetable soup in my mouth when a person leaned in toward me and laughing softly said, “Is that good honey?” I thought I was going to choke. I couldn’t swallow the food. It was mama’s voice, and she was laughing at me for eating like a hungry child. I just nodded my head yes and took the biggest, hardest gulp ever in my life. When I looked up, I saw an old face with bright eyes and a beautiful smile. She was thin and frail. I need a…..then I saw her name badge, Anita. Of course.

I only thought that was the end of the story. A couple of days later, I reach into the fridge to get my son some juice. I had studied this bottle carefully at the store. I remembered that it was a V8 blend of strawberry and banana, and it was 100% juice. My mouth fell open wide when I saw something on the label I had not noticed before. Fusion! Are you kidding me?! I made my husband look at it, “Does this label really say Fusion?” He smiled. It didn’t move me into action, but the juice tasted good.

I had told my friend, Sandra, at work about my dream and the juice. She thought it was funny. She’s like me as far as signs and stuff like that. A few days later she calls me and says, “You will not believe where I went last night! I went to this new tanning bed place, and guess what the name of it was? Fusion!”