Andrew Looked Well

"Andrew and my friend Nova" - October 2008

Andrew and my friend Nova - October 2008

“Now that you are back you are not going to do it again are you?” I asked Andrew while hugging him.
He smiled at my question and I felt reassured.

“You know,” I explained, pleased to have this chance. “Everyone feels down at some point, this is an important thing to know. Sometime you feel down, but then you’ll feel well.”

Andrew looked well.

The skin on his face wasn’t cold like the last time I saw him, it was warm and soft.
His eyes weren’t closed like the last time I saw him, they were open, warm, smiley and full of love.
He wasn’t laying down like the last time I saw him, he was sitting amongst us.
He was allowing me to hug him and kiss him.

I stopped at a water fountain for a drink before going inside.
People walking past, looked at me. Looking down at myself, I saw that I was dressed in white Indian clothes, “That’s why people are looking at me,” I thought.
The thin white sweater I wore under my top, kept me sufficiently warm even though the wind was cold and smelled of winter and snow.

“A nice cake and tea, that’s what we need,” I told myself as I walked inside this big shop.
I couldn’t see anything that Andrew or I would like. There was nothing exciting other than the lemon cake, but that would do for me, not him. Andrew didn’t like that lemon cake.
What about those cookies over there?

“Can I try a piece of piece of that one?” I asked the man behind the counter. He gave me a bigger piece than I expected.
A woman looked at me while I took a bite, “What a strange taste. I’ve never tasted a cookie like this. Would you like to try?” I asked, offering the woman the side of the cookie that I had not bitten into. But she was no longer looking or listening.

Then I woke up.

Thank you Andrew for the warm hugs and kisses.
Love ya, a do šŸ˜‰

1-800 273-8255

4 thoughts on “Andrew Looked Well

  1. Lovely dream. Its good to keep the memories alive. Sounds like you are living part of your life for Andrew.
    I came across some of Bruno’s writing the other day. Reminded me of when he was full of life and doing stuff and how suicide didnt appear in our wildest dreams.
    a hug

    • I had been wondering where you’d gone. So happy to hear from you again. What was it like to read Bruno’s writings?
      Big hug, Esmeralda

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