This blog is dedicated to my close friend Robin who lost both of her parents a little over a year ago.
Last night I had a dream.
I had spent the day with my mom at her house. I don’t know exactly what we were doing — cleaning, my guess. And talking.
I was in the living room watching TV, and I yelled into the kitchen, “Where’s dad? I haven’t seen him all day.”
“He was sleeping in there — you must have missed him,” she replied. Then a deeper voice answered. “I’m right here.”
So I went into the softly lit kitchen and there they were, my mom and dad, sitting at a small kitchen table. There were wood scraps on the table; my dad was a carpenter all his life, and was always working on something.
I remember coming and kneeling next to him. Something didn’t feel quite…
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