13 October 2020: I had a bad dream.

Dear Mom,

They say that you have some of the most terrifyingly bizarre dreams when you're pregnant. I remember that with Machaela, I couldn't even watch scary movie previews or the dreams were unbelievably horrifying. I learned my lesson by the time Aria was being formed...(incubated?) ... or so I thought. Last night, we watched "The Twilight Zone"... you read that correctly... I must've jolted straight up from my sleep about three or four times... such terrible nightmares... from watching "The Twilight Zone". By the fifth time, I was almost used to it... but that didn't make it any better. Our minds can be such intricate and easily impressionable things. 


The last nightmare I had was about you being in trouble. Someone was chasing you and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I woke up in a cold sweat, tears in my eyes... and for a split second, I groggily rationalized that it was just a bad dream and I'd call you in the morning so we could have a cup of tea and laugh about my silliness together. I stepped out of bed to check on the girls, doors, and windows (like I usually do whenever I wake up in the middle of the night) and that's when it hit me. While the nightmare wasn't real, the present reality is far worse. 

I couldn't go back to sleep.

I keep wanting to call you for advice. For reassurance. To ask about recipes. To share updates with you about the girls and the baby. And I realize I can't. I realized I'm never going to hear your ringtone again... The Goldberg's theme song. Our show. We still didn't watch the last season together.

I don't think I can ever get used to this. It hurts so much. 

I miss you, Mom.

Love always,
"Pookie"