The Dream

I dreamed of my daughter on my mother's birthday.

Four years old. Red plaid dress. Patent Mary-Janes with socks trimmed with lace on the cuffs. Caramel-colored pigtails. Asleep on my shoulder as I carried her from place to place.

Susie.

People I met thought that I was my mother. They thought that Susie was me.

And she was beautiful. Oh was she beautiful.