Life is but a dream

It was a fat cat lying in my arms staring up at me anticipating a tummy rub.  I denied that impulse by lowering her to the ground for release.  As my arms opened for her to slide to the ground she turned away and was no longer a cat but my granddaughter who looked behind me and said, “Grandmommy!”

Kyndall, who suddenly appeared in front of me, looked but grandmommy was not there.  Kyndall cried huge tears. The weight of my granddaughter disappeared as I looked in the direction my mother was supposed to be.

As I turned my body there me sat my parents.

“What happened to the furniture?” I asked noticing that the chairs were gone and the room was nearly bare.

“It’s gone,” said my dad.  “We have had it replaced with these pieces.”

“I don’t want them to be gone!  I liked the room the way it was.  Why wasn’t I consulted?”

Without giving them a chance to answer I kicked the nearest chair with all my might and yelled, “I HATE CHANGE!”

I slammed the door as I hastened through it.

“Wait,” I thought.  I went back to the door and opened it.  Inside the room was silence.  Inside those four walls sat two bare chairs. 

“Why?”  I stood alone in the silence.  “Why, with the chance to see my folks alive and well, did I scream defiance at them?”

  I was consumed with me and what I wanted.  Here was a chance to see my parents and to welcome them back with tears of joy, but I threw it away.

Have I always been this selfish?  It’s a question that has haunted me just as those faces in my dream have done.