In my waking dream

My father’s sweet morning song

Still lingers softly

Missing my best baby girl something fierce.

Something about the Thanksgiving holiday makes me feel all kindsa nostalgic.

Growing up together with my girl holiday times were always a bit funky; jangety and haphazard, and anything but traditional or predictable. Bittersweet.

My bathtub called to me this morning. I’m so glad I heeded the call. Magic happens there. Prayers. Healing. Release… down the drain with that which no longer serves me