The story behind The Lost Dream began on a weekend morning in the spring of 2005. I was cleaning a bathroom in a house we were renting while listening to Forgiven by Chris Botti & Jonatha Brooke with nothing in particular on my mind when it happened. It wasn't like some fragmented spark of imagination that required further fabrication and revision. No, from the moment of its inception, the story was revealed to me in its entirety. To be sure, there were a few details to be ironed out. But The Lost Dream was never a story I had to conceive or construct on my own. At least not with any conscious involvement. As such, I'm not certain I can claim to be its ultimate author. Having long since abandoned any hope of becoming a writer, I had not even mused over a single prospective storyline for more than two decades. Despite the insistence of Mr. Clement DaVinci, my eighth grade communications teacher, that I would eventually--inevitably, in fact--become a successful writer, my naivete invariably gave way to reality leading me to abandon any such fanciful notions. Oh, sure, I had written a smattering of articles and editorials that had found their way into print. But nothing that would suggest Mr. DaVinci's vision for me was anything more than encouragement to inspire another promising pupil. And while I paused in that bathroom in my bewilderment at the emergence of such a detailed and complete story in my thoughts, my emotional reaction to the story's resolution is what caught me completely by surprise. So much so, I felt it necessary to call my wife, Myrna, into the bedroom to explain the phenomenon to her. Oddly, upon retelling the story, both of us were left in tears which led my wife to suggest that perhaps there was a reason the idea was given to me. Of course, my response was swift and to the point--if God were looking for someone to write the story, He had clearly picked the wrong guy. I had no idea how to write anything longer than a couple of pages without putting myself to sleep in the process. Certainly not very promising prospects for any plan God might have had for this story. But my wife persisted and encouraged me to give it a shot. So, reluctantly, I did. And now, after a convoluted journey of several years--from my home state of Delaware through Mays Landing and Cape May, New Jersey, to Madison, Indiana and Los Angeles, California, before finally returning to Arizona--my wife and I have endured protracted financial hardship, family losses, and emotional trauma in order to present the story, as entrusted to me, to whoever it was intended to reach. Along the way, I have learned that true families are not necessarily comprised of blood-relations but instead by those who believe in and truly care for one another--through good times and bad. And forgiveness is one of the most powerful gifts one can bestow upon another--and especially to oneself. This book is dedicated to my family--both current and future--including all my readers who know exactly what I am talking about. You know who you are and you are not alone ...