Dreaming of Home
home is with them now
Dreaming of home sometimes makes me cry. I dream about one home in particular: Ukiah, the place where I grew up with my parents, Don and Rosemary. Only, they’re not in the dream. I see the house, the rosebushes on either side of the gate, the curvy sidewalk where I rode my trike, but not them.
It never occurred to me that was odd. Until today.
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