Mrs. Otis' regrets

Dream: I woke up this morning from a dream about my mother. First I was five years old playing super mario on my Game Boy Advanced. (latent content: my mother, father, and I visited Evanston the summer of 2003 (2?) to look at houses; we stayed at the then Hotel Orington in Evanston — now a Hilton – and I had Super Mario 3: Yoshi’s Island on my purple Gameboy Advanced. I wonder what ever happened to that) and at church for Christmas (latent content: I saw Lessons and Carols at Loyola University Chicago’s chapel with Ann Rhomberg of Solidarity Bridge this weekend — Ann Zastrow bought the tickets) when I saw Nathan Costa’s name: he had been confirmed there, or it was some odd word I can’t call to mind now. I pointed it out to my mother; I had to remind her who he was, but then she seemed, or pretended, to remember. Then she was playing with CJ (Allie’s son) and giving him water, but it was spilling on his arms (latent content: I was under the blankets and hot: the radiator was on); I apologized her for not calling her enough and she assured me that it was alright. I was so happy to be with her then, and he smile gladdened me. I woke up and cried (latent content: “the other night dear, when I was sleeping…” — I sang that song to her in the hospital).

Commentary: My mother used to sing “Mrs. Otis regrets she’s unable to come to lunch today” to me, and I ordinarily loved it, but the plot is very sad: Mrs. Otis is delayed because she is being hanged for adultery or some such. We were fresh off the plane in London to visit Nadine, whom Ellery and I stayed with when we saw the War Requiem. I think this was after the move to Evanston, and perhaps even after the divorce. She and I were struggling from jet lag, it was midafternoon, and she sang the song to me again and again. I couldn’t make her stop and I slapped her.