Mary D

“There’s laughing, music, and waves. I must be a toddler, because Mom’s holding my hands, leading me to the water’s edge. The ocean’s foam kisses my chubby knees. I’ve remembered bits of the dream through the years. I see a bonfire on the beach. My Mom is there, and a man playing a guitar, singing. Even though the man doesn’t look like my dad, I know it is him. It must be him. People sometimes look different in dreams. In this one, he has a head of curly hair. It’s a good dream, because every time I think about it I feel warm all over.”
― Kimberly Willis Holt, Blooming at the Texas Sunrise Motel