Dreamland
I traveled once well-traveled roads yesterday. Took Highway 71 south to Houston connected up with interstate ten and then followed that into Pasadena, down 225 well into my past. I went by the little street where my wife lived when we first met into the city where we lived for a lot of our married life. I was there to see my daughter get promoted. She works for the school district where she once attended elementary school.
After the ceremony we had a nice lunch, then met up with friends and family in the evening. There were teacher friends of my daughter. My wife’s sister and her family came as well as my oldest son and his family. There was lots of laughter, talking and food. Then last night I dreamed about my wife. That was strange. She was very much alive and running through the house. I wondered how I was going to explain that to everyone. But I thought they’d be glad to see her. Of course, it was only a dream and a fragment at that. No real story to tell, just that vision of her moving through the house, and I wasn’t even sure it was our house.
This morning it’s back to the present. I spent the night at my daughter’s home. Shades of my youth. The son-in-law was up early for work, the cat was meowing for food, and I had to make my own coffee using a pot with which I am barely familiar. The kids are rousing and getting ready for day care. The pandemonium of a young family. I love it. Later this morning it will be road time and the solitude of a drive over highways I’ve worn flat with no one to welcome me home except in my dreams. It’s a new day.