I just smeared on the last of a bottle of lotion my mom gave me. It was from the Body Shop, “Dreams Unlimited.” We were shopping the weekend before they left for Houston, seeking a cure at MD Anderson. Grandma wanted lotion, and it was the only scent she liked. I liked it too, so along with the bottle for Grandma Mom bought me one as well. Its hard to believe I won’t get more gifts from her, and when things that remind me of her wear or run out I feel the loss all over again.
Its just lotion, and too perfume-ey at that. It seems silly to cry about the end of a bottle of lotion. But I can’t help myself.
I tried to save it. I didn’t use it that often, but it started to evaporate in the bottle. Some things just slip through your fingers, no matter how much you try to hang on.
I wish dreams really were unlimited. But sometimes they run out of gas, hit a wall, die on the vine, go up in flames. Sometimes new dreams grow from the ashes of those that burned to dust, and sometimes not. But there are dreams that just aren’t meant to be. Heartbreaking, isn’t it?