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Last night I had this wild, vivid dream. I was on a school bus in the middle of winter, snow coming down thick and heavy, when four four-wheelers came out of nowhere, flying ahead of the bus and cutting us off. They forced us down a hill and straight into a frozen pond. The bus started flooding fast. I managed to get out, but I was still in my wheelchair, sinking, water rising around me. I clung to the edge of the pond for dear life, struggling to breathe, until I finally got

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you. It was the day after your test today and usually I see you for a little bit. I know that you were out in your quality trying to make money for our family so I understand why you were gone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t miss you. I hope that doesn’t make you feel bad, I would hope it would make you feel good, to be missed. I don’t mean to imply or project any sense of guilt at all. I think it’s just because when you’re out in yo