I had a dream about my favorite Aunt Maryjane. Not so much about her but about pictures of her church and her upcoming funeral. Warren was also in the dream but not as Warren but as the lover of a former boyfriend. It was an odd dream. Wet pictures and wet folded up pieces of paper of days gone by. Having to unfold the wet memorabilia and let it dry, which contained one page take home flyers from my late uncles funeral with the address and picture of the funeral home on colored yellow paper with black ink, like the one page take home paper I used to get from the church as a kid. I suppose the dream was inspired by the call from my brother Ben last night that my favorite aunt was on her deathbed on her 89th birthday. I was feeling guilty that I didn’t correspond more with her over the years, and now that she had a do not resuscitate order since she came down with pneumonia, I was not able to even attend the upcoming funeral, which my brother, who is a catholic priest, is prearranging for her per her request. He called just to let me know what was going on, not with any expectations that I would attend the upcoming funeral due to the cold and wet conditions that exist now in New England. He said he didn’t blame me for not taking the virus infested plane ride at this time of year. He says he always gets a cold when he travels up north at this time of year. It’s funny that the first thing he asked me was what the weather was like in Orlando today. I said it was 82 degrees and getting hot. I just assumed it was summer time up North since it was starting to get hot here again. Funny how my mind went there for a moment, and I forgot I lived in the tropics for a minute. I really haven’t been anywhere since I was in the hospital with pancreatitis Christmas before last, and I haven’t left Orlando since because I wasn’t well enough to travel. I was contemplating going Fort Lauderdale to visit Paul during spring break, but now I’ll feel guilty if I go and I have several doctors’ appointments that I would have had to rearrange.