Mom was there, so was Daddy. Daddy was the Daddy at the end of his life, sick, overweight and tired. Ma was late 80s Ma, before she became bed-ridden or had sunken eyes. She and Daddy were renewing their vows. We were at the old double-wide where I grew up. When I bought the place in the 90s, I put a wooden deck on the back, the length of the house. They were going to renew their vows out there. There were people in the background, I don’t know who. They were not center to the dream. Suddenly I had to get ready because everyone else was in their finery and I was in jeans with my hair in a whore bun on top of my head. I went to my old room and struggled to get the door open. Finally, when I did, I was naked going into the room (running from the hall bathroom to my room, hoping no guests saw me). I pushed the door open finally and fell to the floor, there was someone, a tall young man, behind the door who ran around the door and away. I did not see what he looked like, just that he had on jeans. Next I remember looking in the mirror to get ready. My hair was like it was before I started to straighten it, ultra curly and it did not look horrible but I was mortified and thought “straighten” for a moment. Ma was suddenly there, wearing her white capris pants. I asked her “Is that what you are going to wear?” Then I flashed to walking into the kitchen, ma sitting at the bar. She seemed shorter (Ma was short but sitting at the bar like that made it seem as if she was much shorter.) Then there was a flash of sickly Dad in an ill fitted suit, kind of moseying around the main living room area. We didn’t speak, he was just moseying around kind of aimless. Flash forward to me and Ma walking. I could see myself. More like, I could see my hair – and it was old. Like I had aged a few decades. I could not see my face. This morning I have struggled to recognize the fashion of hair I was wearing, because it was familiar. Then it hit me: