The voice in my dream said something else, something I didn’t tell Annie. Nobody wants to hear bad news so I left that part out, but I remember it word for word. You’ve done well, Ophelia Browne, he said, but your time on earth is growing short.
That’s exactly what he said, and I don’t doubt it’s true. As I’ve told you before, Browne family women seldom live past ninety. Edward told me his Aunt Harriet lived to ninety-three, but she’s the only one. Fact is fact, and it makes no difference whether you’re born into the Browne family or marry into it.
The truth is I’m ready to go whenever the Lord calls me. I’ve been waiting almost sixty years to see my Edward again, so it will be one heck of a reunion. As it is I’ve been on this earth so long I’ve nearly worn out my welcome.
The voice in my dream – Friday Fiction
They say every person has a purpose in life. At one time I thought my purpose was being Edward’s wife and the mother of his children, but as you well know that wasn’t to be. God knows how many years I’ve been searching for another purpose and now when I’m almost out of time, I finally find it.
It’s Annie. She’s my reason for being here. The dream made me see that clear as day. Once she’s on the road to happiness, then my work will be done.
I know I told her one of my treasures is the key to her future, but I’m not even sure of that. The truth is I don’t have an answer. The voice didn’t say a word about what I had to do; it just said her destiny is in my hands. So I started thinking about it, and the only thing I could figure out is that it’s got to be the memory in one of my treasures. I don’t have anything else of worth. If I did I’d surely give it to her.
When you’re short on years you don’t have the luxury of stretching things out the way you do when you’re young. It would have been nice if Annie and I could’ve spent years getting to know one another , but that’s water under the bridge. She’s here now, and that’s all that counts.
I know I’m not really her mama, but in a strange way I feel like I am. I look into those violet eyes of hers and see myself seventy or eighty years ago. Having Annie with me is the closest I’ve ever come to having a daughter, so I’m determined to enjoy every minute we’ve got.
Tomorrow I’m going to start telling her about the memories I’ve found. All of them, right down to the tiniest one. She feels things the way I do, so I think when something important comes along she’ll know it.
God knows I hope she does.