When I was younger, I used to love looking up at the clouds, especially on days where the clouds looked like houses, like they do here in this picture.
I always used to pretend, that the houses were those of my dead relatives.
I used to imagine that my grandma Alice would be making chicken and noodles in her little cloud house where she lives with the grandpa I never got to meet, and she would bring a big bowl over the the house of my great grandparents, Annie and Julius, and they, who never met in real life were the best of friends in the after life, up there in the little cloud houses they lived in.

And they were all there, the ones I had met before they passed on, and the ones who I never had the chance to meet. But it was so cool, my family was up there, living together in their little neighborhood, and someday, I will be up there too, and we can all have tea and cookies and reminice about days gone by.

I know ..no one lives in a cloud house, but when you lose 4 family members in 6 months at age 12.. you tend to make the most pleasant memories you can about what happens after life.

Whenever I see these type of clouds, I am reminded once again, of the time in my youth, where everyone I knew that had died, had a place to live and to be happy.