Last night met two dead friends in my dreams. It was so great to see them. Even in my dreams I knew I was dreaming and thought to myself "this must be a dream, but I don't care, I need to touch them, hug them" I did and it was fantastic to hold them once again. But then they morphed into my daughters and I lost them again.
I love those dreams. They're a poor consolation but at least some consolation.
I don't think I'll ever reconcile with the notion of death and loss. There will never be peace for me. Reconcile is such a ridiculous word here, as if death and I had ever conciled before.
