That's what columns are made of

Last night I was in the waiting room of a medical institution that was very busy. There were people sitting around waiting and several staff people bustling around. As I sat in a chair that seemed very like one I had relaxed in during a visit to some friends' home during the day, I saw a familiar looking person come in one door and quickly go to another. I was surprised to see that it was my friend who now lives in Marionville, Mo., in the Methodist retirement village.

I was pleased to see her walking briskly because she has been somewhat disabled for several years. She uses one of these neat battery operated scooters to get around at the Methodist Manor. But last night she was walking with agility and speed.

I hurried to greet her when she almost disappeared into a doorway. I called out, "Hey, friend, you can't pass me by like that." She turned and asked if I was talking to her. I rushed over to hug her and she seemed surprised.

I asked her what she was doing here and said I hoped she would be here long enough for us to have lunch together the next day. She looked even more surprised and drew back a little. I suddenly realized that she didn't know who I was. I had the thought that she must be having memory loses by the way she was acting toward me.

We had been friends since 1962 when Lester entered the ministry. Her husband was also a minister and was serving the Methodist Church in Butler while we were at Archie, just up the road. We even created and directed a musical for the Ministers' wives tea, which was held yearly during the church's Annual Conference. And now she didn't even know who I was.

I told her that she must remember me since we moved into the same parsonage that she and her family were moving out of in 1968. I reminded her that we enjoyed being the same age and having similar memories. Rather coldly she replied that she didn't know what I was talking about and she had other patients to take care of. She told me what her name was and it wasn't the name of my friend.

Instead of her being the one with a possible loss of memory, I was not recognizing that this able-bodied woman was not my long-time friend. I looked more closely and could see that though there was a marked similarity she wasn't my friend, Mary. I apologized and went back to my comfy chair laughing at myself. I thought, "Well, at least I can make a good column out of this!"

About this time my husband rolled over from his side of the bed and woke me up. It took me a while to realize that I had been dreaming. Here I thought I had good material for a column and it was all just a dream.

I got so tickled with myself that I couldn't go back to sleep for a long time, but I decided that if I still remembered the dream the next morning I would still use it for my column.

So I am now awake and do remember the dream. It all fits together nicely with the happenings of my day and my resolve to keep in touch more often with my long time friends.

But now I am worried that if I do get to see Mary that she won't know me. She might have gotten so old that she can't recognize me!