Three weeks before Rosie's birth, I dreamed of my brother.
I guess I should stop there and explain the significance. After my brother passed, I pleaded with God to let me see his face once more. All I wanted was to see him in my dreams and know that he was okay. But for five long years, I never once dreamed of my Travis.
But those five years of waiting ended when, in my sleep, I saw him. At an anonymous roadside diner, of all places. He was sitting across the room from me, dining with an unknown companion. He looked up at me, smiled his crooked little grin and nodded once. I was overcome by a sense of peace. "Trust, everything is going to be okay."
And then I woke up.
I though the message was meant for Rosie. That he was keeping watch over my newest little blessing. I was wrong.
The message was meant for me.
I guess I'm back?