Well this is only day 3 of my posts and already I have a late one.
I wasn't feeling well an I went to bed before putting any thoughts down, no excuses, shame on me. I do have a problem following through on things, so i hope that committing myself to a daily blog will help me with that attribute.
I woke up around 2am, feeling horrified. I knew my husband was just coming to bed and all I could do was ask him if my oldest son Robert was home. When he said he was I breathed a sigh of relief and allowed myself to fall back to sleep.
I had a horrifying dream that sent me in a panic. I can recall that something terrible had happened to Robert and I was burying him. When I woke up this morning I could no longer remember the details, dang I hate that. I do remember it was nothing usual and it wasn't related to him joining the military. I think it has to do with my fear of losing him period. I am so glad to see him sleeping on the sofa in the livingroom this morning.
We all dream but why is it we only remember a very small percentage of them?
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