I am actually glad that Francois has just changed the subject, even before I could say thankyou to Chuck's expression of concern. But right now I am less than interested in talking about my father's passing. It is still too real for me, when I saw him in a vision while at work in the hospice, and knew I had to rush over to see him right away, where he would be seated dead at the same table where we were having breakfast this morning.
"A retreat centre?
"Yes", say I. "Carl and his sister inherited a sprawling mansion from their father who was very wealthy. And so they converted it into a community and retreat centre. It's on this huge plot of land in the forest with acres of gardens and lawns and walking paths."
"I should like very much to see it some time."
"I think that could be arranged ", says Francois, whose phone is suddenly ringing. He checks the screen, then picks it up. "Hi", he says, then looking at me, whispers, "my mother", and promptly goes to another table leaving me alone with Chuck and really not knowing what I am going to say to him next...
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