It was so real. I remember every detail about her bathroom. Everything that was misplaced and disorganized, I could tell you the exact location. I grew up going to her house daily and spent so much time there that it practically was my home as well. I even had my own bedroom there. Memories that I hadn't had readily accessible prior to her death flood my thoughts at the most random times, including dreams now apparently. This particular dream, however, takes place in the bathroom. Her bathroom has always been one of my favorite to begin with. It has two doors; one opens to the sinks and cabinets and mirrors, and then on the wall directly across from everything is the door to the toilet, tub/shower combo, laundry hamper, and cabinets. The floor is stone. She paid to have the floor replaced a few years ago. The walls were white, due to the rough textured wallpapers that peeled up at the edges.
