About a week after my wife died I had a dream that I was walking up a hill on a dirt road. She was next to me in her power wheelchair. To the left was a little house in a field. There was a little girl kicking a soccer ball in the air. She came up to us and said I’ll take it from here. She looked about 12. Just about the same number of years since my wife’s one and only miscarriage. Needless to say, it was a very vivid and kind of foundation rattling dream. Comforting in one way but full of questions in another.

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father, motorcyclist, old retired guy who’s just a little lost on a blue marble corkscrewing its way to oblivion

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