I dreamed the other night that I was lost in my hometown. I wandered down streets I should have known past landmarks I should have recognized, and yet everything was strangely unfamiliar. It wasn’t scary, but incredibly sad, and I cried as I turned corner after corner feeling more and more disconnected.
Suddenly, a big, black SUV pulled up beside me—finally, something that felt right—and the window opened to reveal my husband at the wheel.
“Get in,” he said gently. “We’re going home.”
I woke up next to him, just as I’ve done for many years, and I wasn’t crying at all.
Of all the paths my life could have taken
Walking this one with you has been my salvation.