National Day of Remembrance.

My grandson was murdered on Oct 21, 2005. He was killed with a single bullet. I have died a million deaths in his memory.

Brandon at Camp Sheridan, Black Hills.

Last night I dreamed that I was in the Holiday store here in Deer River. A tall man entered. I didn't know him. He raised a small gun and trained it on me. I asked, "Why?"
There was no reply but he pulled the trigger. I heard nothing. He hit me in the throat and I woke up. But not before I saw myself on the floor with a horrible wound in my neck.
I got up and could not go back to sleep.
In the dream I did nothing to provoke the shooter. I was shocked that this would happen. But I had no time for fear and felt no pain.
"Why?" was my last word. What can this mean?

Colored pencil drawing in progress.

Today I started work on a portrait of my friend Ann M. I have one layer of color down and much work is left to do. She has seen it and approves... so far.