A Visit - October 2020.

I had a dream last night you walked out of the mountains and back to me.
I said, “I thought they cremated you.” My brain couldn’t process what my heart saw. “They just took a small part.” Mind this isn’t your job. “What about your organs?” Let the heart do it’s. 
But, there you were.
You did a run with me, Brette Harrington was there, and we bought our meals from a private school, they took the sushi back that I wanted.
We ran, paddle boarded across a lake, down a river, and were gonna climb. Brette was ahead, climbing. 
I had to unlock my paddle board in the lake. 

Everyone cried when they saw you. 
Such love. You are so loved.
I had kept you to myself for a few non-linear earlier days.
We lived together softly.
I wasn’t sure how the world would handle you back, could they believe in this magic? I could. I didn’t want our time together explaining, I just wanted time together. 
I was afraid you’d disappear again.
You cleaned my room and lined up my shoes the way I like them.
My sweet man. You looked after me. 
You were gonna go work for us, you know construction is booming in Bozeman.
Your dad cried when he saw you.

Did you speak in this dream?
You did.
Were they words? 

I dreamt of you the night before too.
You haven’t come to me in dreams in so long.
I’d go anywhere to have you visit me.
Even towed to St George with a broken transmission in the truck you left, she was broken into a few days ago too, they stole pieces of you. And, not you. My wedding necklace.
Your pack from the day of the accident.
My boots.
This house is so old, does that help you visit? My neck so kinked I didn’t think I would sleep. And, there you were, next to me for so long. 

I wish you’d walk out of the mountains and back to us. 
I wish that magic was real. 
We all miss you. All that know you and the ones who don’t too. 
I’m taking the truck to the shop this morning. 
Keep visiting.