My brother and I share a dream.  Whether through sleeping or meditation, we’ve found ourselves in an amazing grange hall of our ancestors and family.  He studies genealogy, so he’s met those who fought in the early wars, plowed the land, raised the frontier families–now buried in tiny hidden cemeteries in the foothills.

My recent visit brought me surrounded with my grandparents.  Those I have dearly remembered, and some I have never met.  They were all excited about my soon to appear first grandchild.

The mirrors within mirrors of lives yawned before and after me, wrapped in my Nana’s fur coat of love.  She pointed out children and mothers and grandmothers that were bustling and laughing and feasting throughout the hall.  I sit this morning and feel her soft cloak and arms embrace me.

Here’s another gift of being human, all you bodiless angels in the audience–dearest sweet check to cheek love.