For the most part, I never remember my dreams. I wake up in the morning and have just a few seconds of memory from my nocturnal adventure. I like it that way.
Last week there was something different. I dreamt that our small family moved into a small house off a small road near a small town. We didn't need much space due to our New York life, so we invited some friends to live with us. As friends and family moved to our home, we found more rooms and secret hallways. Some rooms were small and simple. Some rooms were large and elegant Each room was perfect for the family that needed it. We had a house full of kids, parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. We laughed together. We cried together. We lived together.
Our little family was no longer so little.
That was my dream.
It was a very happy dream.