Grave
It’s vague, the dream I had last night. Really, I only remember what it was about. My uncle, my cousin (who alternated as my step-daughter) and I were on some sort of motorcycle pilgrimage to visit either my mother’s grave, or the place where she died (which in the dream was in the middle of nowhere, but in real life was in the hospital). I was riding up behind my husband on his motorcycle, and at one point he left to take a ride by himself, to leave me and my uncle and my cousin to make our peace at my mother’s grave-site (there was a crossroad? a body of water? something. it’s not clear). My cousin and I were somewhat removed, emotionally (I was eight and she was five when my mother died), but my uncle was a mess, and was upset at us that we weren’t more emotional than we were.
That’s all I remember. I woke up feeling disjointed, and the feeling persists if I try to remember any more details.
