Wandering but not lost…

Dear Mark,

I saw you again last night.

Why is it that every time I see you, you are trying to comfort me or help me find my way?  Like last time, you walked me through a field of stone monuments.  Hundreds of stones.  I followed you.  We didn’t talk this time.

At the edge of that field, you left me and disappeared into a maple and oak forest, deep with fallen leaves. I turned around to see how far we had come.  The stones were all gone, except one.  Rolling green hills stretched out for miles.

The one stone monument looked like one we saw at Gettysburg as children. I always have dreamed in color, but, like most people, I cannot read sentences in my dreams.  It is all nonsense.  I can, however, read single words.  This stone had one word: “find”.

I woke up in a cold sweat (again).  And realized you were truly gone (again).  And I have no idea what I am supposed to “find”.  I will wander until I do.

Your big brother loves you very much.


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