Yesterday evening the world watched as Notre Dame burned.
It is almost a year since my Daddy died.
Last night I dreamed of him. It was so real, I could feel him and hear him. We both knew he was dead but I got to hug him tight and tell him how much we all love and miss him. It was so visceral it woke me.
I wanted to catch that dream again so badly.
When I was young I asked my mum if she believed in ghosts. She told me she’d never seen one but that her late mum sometimes came to her in her dreams and she thought that perhaps that was sort of the same thing.
I think so too.