I've been thinking about a lot of things over the past few days. Memories and images crowd my mind and dreams are vivid and realistic.

When you're a kid, you never think your parents will die. You know they are there and you think that they always will be. They, not you are the invincable ones. When you get older and you're in your teens the idea of maybe going on without a partent crosses your mind, but you never really think about it. After all, you'll never be that old so it doesn't really stick in your mind. As you grow out of your teens you may notice new lines her and there on the faces of your parents. Still you assume they will always be there.

The idea of losing a parent didn't hit me until she was gone. My mother was hardly ever ill in my memory. She got a cold now and then, but she pushed through her day knowing she had things to do and shildren to take care of. Even when we first found out she had cancer, she pushed through things. Mom lived longer than they thought she would. But she still died.

Life changed for me in a profound way after caring for my mother for a year. I attended college full time and worked while caring for her as best as I could. After she died, my dad went over the edge. He always had an anger problem and it was even worse after her death. Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I moved in with a friends family and learned about closeness and love.

Finally it was time to come to college and I moved to Texas deciding to go at the last minute. I ended up in a place I felt was home for the first time in a along time. I met godly women and men and students who loved to worship and talk. I learned much in to years, including how to let go of people I fell in love with.

I went back to Oregon after a while and when I returned to Texas due to a series of circumstances, the college was no longer a home. I was treated as an outsider. Even my last semester when I lived on my own was weird. This place was no longer home.