Alana dreamt that I died.
Around 6:00 am, I was in bed breastfeeding Abe. Mark was in the shower. Alana stood in the doorway.
“I had a bad dream.” She said.
She said it was about me.
“Did I die?” I asked.
“Yes.” She said.
She crawled into bed and clung to the only available side of me. With one hand, I did my best to comfort her. I stroked her hair and the arm that wrapped around me.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It was just a dream.”
“I love you, Mommy.” She said.
“I love you, too.” I said.
Then I explained, she must go back to bed and rest before school. I didn’t want Mark to keep her up as he continued to get ready for work.
As she walked away, she said, “I’m happy to have you as a mom.”
“I’m happy to have you here with me.” My words trailed behind her.
I clung to Abe and my thoughts turned to romance and something I’d written about dancing with him in the dark. My mind then recollected a song. I sang without knowing the words. Until finally, my mouth found the right ones.
“Heaven, I’m in heaven…”