If you've been on this trip with me from the beginning, you'll remember I used a quote, something about the "home in one's head". 
Sometimes, when I get to wonder who besides Dan and my wife actually reads this stuff, I wonder what that phrase might mean to others.
Some may not have a home; when I was a ward of the Court, I met a lot of kids like that, who either couldn't remember, or the memories were too horrible to face.
Other people, and I suspect I'm one of them, re-write it as we go along, editing out the really bad stuff, and putting a Vaseline haze over the images that are left.
I look at that picture of our house-in my mind, it's nowhere near that shabby, and it's HUGE....I'd love to be able to walk through it now, just to see.
Were all those nice people really that nice? If I were to go back to Lorain, 1960, the age I am now, would I be greeted by smiles and welcome?
Would I find I'd outgrown the places, and the people I'd loved?
Would there be things that I remember, that never happened?
Might it even be possible, that all that has come since, is nothing more than the dream of a four year-old, who even now AWAKENS-
