I don’t often remember my dreams exactly, mostly impressions or feelings, so it’s a rare treat to wake up remembering one that featured my Mina Bean.

It was so ordinary, just an evening (or a day, I couldn’t tell) at home with Mina napping in front of the living room window, and me sitting on the couch watching an old movie. We did that a lot on Sundays and on many days in her end stage illness. It seemed so normal, felt so comfortable that I wasn’t so disappointed when it was over, a little wistful, but happy that Mina showed up in her usual place. That dream is the best thing that’s happened to me in days.

Resting

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