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The cab pulled up and I felt a nudge on my left arm as I reached down to pick up my bag. "Let me help you with this, Maggie." It was Michael, his bright white teeth smiling. "Umm, no, that's okay, I got it," I replied. "Look, I'm sorry. I know that was rude and I have no excuse." He knew what he had done and that I was upset?! Grab a peek at my breasts, sure, but then why come back to try to make it up to me? Odd. I put my garment bag into the trunk being held open by the cabbie and walked silently around to the back door on the curb side. "I said I was sorry, but I couldn't help it. It just caught me by surprise and I froze," Michael said. He did seem contrite. "It's okay," I said, "Really, I've forgotten it already. Now, please, step away from the curb so I can get into my cab." I moved toward the open door, pushing him to the side. My hand brushed against his left leg, muscular, and as he stumbled backward I tripped on the curb. I caught my fall with my right hand which. Part of me was calm, rock steady and rational, while another part was horrified, shaking in terror and ready to cry.I'd already known, you see. My dream told me. Things would never be the same again, this I knew in my very soul. My mother would soon die; it was only a matter of time.Time was my enemy and my friend, you see. She had time to fight and buy more time, and I knew I had precious few moments with her, to learn, to laugh, to cry, to forgive.Time. Every moment of time I was given with my mother was precious. I knew it to be so and was grateful for the warning that had been whispered to my sub-conscious during that night.I used my time wisely by going to see my mother several times. We lived across the continent from each other and until now visits were few but I made several trips in six months. As many as I could afford and a few I couldn't.We talked and talked about all manner of things - our growing up years, her marriage to my father and his illness, his passing, her.
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