The Dream

The first month after the diagnoses I kept having a recurring dream.

I would walk down a long hallway of closed doors. Upon reaching the last door I would open it and peer in. The room was lined with floor to ceiling cabintery. Upon the shevles were hundreds of home movies - birthday parties, little legaue games, sleep overs, prom dances, college graduations, weddings. Suddenly, I would smell it. Paralyzed and voiceless I would stand in horror. The flames would silently creep up the walls, the window treatments, the shelves. Burnt plastic. Each night, I watched my hopes and dreams burn.