I'm standing next to my car in the parking lot of an apartment complex I never actually lived in. It's a bright, warm, sunny day. Next to the parking lot is a busy road with heavy traffic going in both directions.
On the other side of the road is a figure, waving at me with his hand high in the air. I squint my eyes and see it's my friend, Roger. He looks great, which surprises me. Strong and hale, with a headful of hair and a beautiful, open smile on his glowing face. I'm happy because the last time I had actually seen him he was very sick with cancer. Frail. Dying.
I can see he is restored and is joyfully greeting me. I wave back, so grateful to know that he's better now.
