Why do we dream when our dreams torture us? I have fought my dreams for much of my life, and when times were worst, I clung to better dreams for solace and a gentle nudge in the right direction when my waking mind resisted me. Those dreams got me through loss and emptiness, and helped me find peace when the world fell apart around me. Without the dreams that haunted me, I would never have found the love of my life, and I certainly would not have managed to live through the loss of my son. Now my dreams are filled with fear that separation will be my last living memory. Even worse still, I fear my children share those dreams and those dreams will become the nightmares of loss that haunted me growing up. I dread their own hatred of me for leaving them behind. My dreams also taunt me for my own weakness. I once was strong enough to defend my family against anything or escape those things I could not fight. Now I am powerless. During my waking hours, I do what I can to push on.
