I woke up happy this morning.
I had one of those dreams in which my mom was still alive, and we weren't doing anything special--just shopping, just hanging out together--but she was alive and healthy and still just very much a part of my every day life. I love those dreams. That's all I ask for when I go to bed at night: That I can spend some small portion of the night believing she's still here and we're still together, just hanging out.
That happens almost every night, actually. I don't always remember my dreams when I first wake up; sometimes I have to sit for a moment and think in order to remember what they were about. So every morning I do that; I take a moment to take inventory of my dreams, checking to see if she was there. Usually the answer is yes, so I get to spend a few minutes thinking about that dream, and I get this happy feeling, just remembering what it felt like to still have her around. On the mornings when I find there were no dreams about her, I think, "Hey! Where were you?"
So every night before I fall asleep, I think, "I'll see you tonight, Ruby." And I almost always do. It's not the same as having her here, but it's as close as I can get, so I'll take it. It makes me very happy.