A dream

Last night, actually early morning, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was sitting on a bed, looking over various pictures of my brother, Mike. Some of them were of us when we were young, some of him and his family, vacations together, celebrations - very vivid pictures - and I began to cry. Then, he walked into the room, sat in a desk chair next to the bed, and asked, "What's wrong?"

"You died," I said.

"Well come here," he said with his arms outstretched ready to hug me. And as I rose to go to him, I woke up.

And then I really started crying.

With the business of getting back and traveling and unpacking, I had not even begun to touch the part of my heart that is missing seeing my brother along with everyone else.

Until today.

Thank you Lord.