I dreamt that I went searching for my mother on the streets of Santa Fe.
Maybe that's what I've been doing...
I have no reason to think that she'd ever been to the City Different, other than her Catholic sensibilities.
In the dream I held in my hand, an antique toy hot-air balloon with Santa Fe Tea Company scrawled across it; standing in the rain on Don Gaspar, squinting into the peaking Sun.
She was there in that moment, if not ever before. And certainly in searching for her, I find myself.
I went searching for me on the streets of Santa Fe.