Memories.
Like an orchestra
playing on repeat in my head.
The Californian sunsets.
Carmel and it's coffee houses.
The pier at Santa Monica.
Golden Gate Bridge at San Francisco .
Coffee while watching a million stars at Yosemite National Park.
Driving the Big Sur while my
darling slept gently at my side.
Hearing the ocean break hundreds of feet
beneath me and praying to The Lord Jesus
that he would keep us safe until
we got home.
My son once said
* Mom, I've no idea how you drove that , all alone.*
Nor do I.
These memories, however.
Always, always with me.
Knowing that somewhere,
a
star
shines
for
me
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Pretty misty stars