March 11, 2018 Around 7:30 or so am Sleepy, partially dreaming... The morning started the same as any other morning. Scoop! Clang! Scoop! Clang! Someone is feeding the dogs. Maybe it's Bruce. No, he's in the hospital. I don't want to think about that. Today's the day. 2:00 pm. Then it's up to God. ( But hasn't it been all this time?) Falling asleep again... Bruce is there in my dream. Scooting across the floor from the bedroom in which I reside 4 days a week, missing his right leg and left arm, he looks at me, says, "Excuse me," and scoots into the kitchen. I run into their bedroom, excitedly telling Janet, "Bruce is here! Bruce is here!" "Where?" she asks. "He went into the kitchen!" I tell her. I see her run into the entrance of the kitchen off the living room and get down on the floor with him, level with him so she can touch him, hug him, kiss him, hold on tig...