Woken this morning by Mikey, from a dream ABOUT him and my father. For some reason, in all of my dreams my father appears as he did when I was about 10 years old. Young, thin, with hair and a beard. It makes me sad that we can't time capsule those moments and live within them whenever we choose.
I got very nostalgic for my childhood home yesterday, as my brother, father and I sat around with my aunt and uncle, at the outdoor table we've had since I was in elementary school. Reminiscing about how we used to make our porch swing a star ship, and how many gauges we put into the log walls from ramming it into them.
I miss summer vacations as a child. And I wish I hadn't been such a bratty teen and had more memories of times away as a family, when my parents were still together.
I suppose its a lovely day for a good cry...
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