After a day of family sharing, sleep produced one of those dreams that one cannot shake - and perhaps shouldn't. My husband and I in a car - crossing a bridge - the full moon ahead of us in the night sky blinks out. I can still see the dark disc. Filled with stoic foreboding, I turn towards my husband and explain that something's happened as in: "Houston, we have a problem." I'm aware that our sun has vanished and that we have only 8 minutes before the loss of its gravitational effect hurls us into . . . . (Today in wakefulness, it's apparent I had the physics all wrong, but for enlightenment's sake, let's not quibble) I reach toward him in our remaining moments to try to convey my love and gratitude for the shared pilgrimage, whatever lies ahead. . . . "O my soul."
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