Birthdays

  My daughter-in-law's birthday is in two days and my grandson's birthday a day later.  My mother's birthday is eight days after his.  It's no surprise then that I'm thinking  of birthdays, past, present and future.  Though all my mother's birthdays are consigned to the past, they are propelled into the future through my dreams:   
    The setting is the house. The people are all those who over the years played a part in our lives.  The term "played a part" is not casual use of a metaphor.  It's the dreamlike structure of a real-life play, in which the characters morph in and out of the scenes as their lives touch upon each others,' with no introductions or foreshadowing, or knowledge of from whence they came.  People just appear, as they did in days of childhood. 
     So I am in the house, in my mother's kitchen, ghosts from the old days alive and well and interacting at will, some more visibly than others.  In the company of my sister and others, I ask my mother what she wants for her birthday.  She pauses only briefly, and says, "Well, I always like candy."  My sister and I feel glad, because we know we can get her something she likes.  I can hear their voices.