There was a very brief period when I passionately wished I could have her back. It’s been so long that I have trouble remembering when it was. Maybe a dozen years ago? I’m not sure.
I no longer think about her very often — although I’ve written about her before — but I dreamed about her Tuesday night. I have no idea why. As I thought about the dream right after I woke up this morning, my first thought was, “Be careful what you wish for, David.”
In the dream, I still lived in the townhome where I lived for about 20 years in another Birmingham suburb. We had just married and she had moved in with me — but it felt more like a nightmare than a dream.
The narrative was less about her than it was about what she was doing to the space in which I lived. It felt very symbolic of something dark and dangerous going on in my mind and heart.

I can’t tell truth about my father unless I dig for truth about me
Creative process can be very ugly, but I need to share mine with you
Roy Moore just the latest in the long line of politicians who want control
I don’t know how to fix race issues, but anger at race-baiters won’t help
Search for ‘more’ can leave us craving what we haven’t found
It’s best to focus on future, ’cause dead past is a ‘bridge to nowhere’