A beautiful dream...
It was the kind of dream where you wake up mad at the alarm clock. It was almost a memory. Some holiday or event that caused a family gathering at my grandparents house. Everyone happy and laughing. Grandpa and John both alive and present. But not a memory, because Landon and all his cousins were the ages they are now. I was so angry that i woke up. Not just because of the presence of John and grandpa in the dream, but also because of carefree the dream me was. No stress, no pain, no worrying that people can tell you're sick...just laughter and love and happiness. Sometimes i feel like i'll never have that again. It's amazing how long 92 days can feel when you're always in pain. That's just 3 months. The three longest months... I'm trying to be strong. Keep smiling. Only cry in the shower. Not talk about it to much. Not whine. Not scream when i wake up and find a handful of strands on the pillow. Act like it's no big deal that the effort of pushing the vacu