The morning that wasn't

SUMMARY: Pain meds for new hip, or dreamy state, or wish fulfillment, or...

This is what led me into accidentally coming across parents' obits yesterday. Posted on Facebook 2/18/19.

I awoke this morning, tucked into my comfy and warm recovery bed between my new flannel sheets, hearing a sound at my bedroom door. I opened my eyes, and the room flooded with brilliant morning sunshine and a feeling of well-being came over me. Dogs were quiet in their crates, not disturbing me. Mom was standing in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, tall and slender, in an apron as always, her hair pulled back into a short pony tail, just checking up on me, saying something about letting my hip heal and breakfast would be ready when I was ready. I could smell breakfast and I could hear my little sisters downstairs playing. All was right with the world. Then I awoke, tucked into my comfy and warm recovery bed between my new flannel sheets. I opened my eyes, and the room flooded with brilliant morning sunshine. Dogs were quiet in their crates, not disturbing me. My bedroom door was closed. No one else was in the house. I lay there in my delicious bed, loving the sunshine, floating between contentment and grief and contentment again.