The Things We Think We're Missing   We were out to dinner when she called. His father answered the phone and said hello - she asked where we were. I cannot recall his response, but it was not entirely honest. Not really a lie, though, more like a lighthearted joke to himself; one she would not notice. She then told him that she was in Birmingham, Alabama, where he had once lived. He had grown up near there, and so had she. Unfortunately, everyone at the table was aware that she was just on the other side of town in Baton Rouge, Louisiana in her assisted living home. My partner’s grandmother suffered from dementia.  This reminded me of my own memory and imagination. That I often find the people and places dear to me in the minor details of where I stand.  And I remembered the ability to imagine you are anywhere. That you could be lying in your bed with your eyes closed in one place and genuinely feel like you are back in another.  I worry that I will never actually find home, but constantly be reminded of it.