I had wondered why a lot of you seemed to be so invested in your dreams, but I think I've figured it out. I'm generally pretty good at remembering my dreams, but this one felt more like a memory than anything else. It wasn't anything special, just a conversation with my mother which I'm sure I must have had here when I was a kid too, except we were living in Roswell, New Mexico (yes, that Roswell).
It was actually really nice. I miss having conversations like that with her.