The Life Of Mae
Finding love in an unexpected place
Each
time I visit her, my friend Mae says she had another dream about my
son. She lives in the nursing home I visit on Sunday afternoons with the
community of Sant’Egidio.
“Come and take a walk with me,” Mae says my
son tells her in the dream, putting his hand in hers and leading her
outside, her bad leg somehow good again. Or he comes to her bedside and
rests his head on her chest. “I love you, Mae,” he says in the dream,
and then kisses her goodnight.
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