Milk And Bread

From the blog: This is my life...it is what it is

Dreams by Dina Kucera

I am currently off my job for awhile. So I am diligently working on my best selling book. How do I know it will be a best seller? Trust me.

My mother lives with me. In all the memories I have of the way things went, my mother's life has sucked. If you ask her, she says she has been blessed 'abundantly' in her life.

I'm lying in bed the other night. I'm thinking about how I get to have this dream of being able to sit and write my book. Thanks to my husband who works constantly, he won't stop, I've tried. He had a heart attack, he stopped, for ten seconds. He is a 'worker' and he has been a 'worker' since the day I met him. John works. Period. A few days out of work and he flips his lid. Can you imagine? I get to write my book. Good book or bad book, I actually get to sit at the desk and do it. Because of John.

So I lay in bed looking at the ceiling and think about my mom. You see, my dad was not a 'worker'. He just wasn't. He did the best he could I'm sure, but he was nothing like my husband.

So I wondered if my mom had a dream. If there was something special she wanted to do in her life, but she couldn't because she wasn't married to someone who could carry her through.

The next day I ask her, "Hey, mom. In your life, was there ever anything you dreamed of doing? Like art, or singing or dancing?"

She said, "I dreamed a lot about having milk and bread."

I paused. I stared at her and she stared at me. That was it. I was hoping for this really rich story. Something amazing and interesting that I didn't know about my mother. All she ever wanted was milk and bread.

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