I was in my dad’s living room, and Will called me. I remember walking out of the room, so I could be mindful of my family. I closed the door behind me, and we talked about our kids. Laughter is such a simple equalizer. In this dream I have, I’m on a porch with Will, and we’re watching our kids run around. Instead I’m watching my last breath disappear. There are subtle Christmas decorations around me, and this snapshot of what his voice felt like, following me.
Max called. I know I dropped a glass, but I can’t remember the conversation.
I hung up. I called my dad. The last place I heard Will’s voice was in that room. I had to drive back and be there.
Until I fall asleep, to speak with the dead.