Friday, May 28, 2010

Wet Pillow

This morning I dreamt that Fynnie had died.  Tom and I spent one last evening going places and having a lovely "date" with our daughter before heading to the hospital.  Along the way he gave me several gifts that were related to Fynn.  At each stop a happy crowd would watch as I opened the present.  One woman sat at our table and insisted on seeing the mother ring (made with wooden beads, coral and turquoise) before he gave it to me.  He leaned over the table and showed it to her while saying in a rather charming manner, "My daughter just died and I'm giving this to my wife."

Anyone feel like keeping me company while I never sleep again?


Bossy Betty said...

Sweetheart! I had terrible dreams like that when I was pregnant too! Fynnie is jut fine--healthy and happy and loving Chicago too! (She'll get over that last part.)

Sweet dreams tonight! Got it?

Rebecca said...

Oh, I hate dreams like that - the ones that feel so real you spend all day convincing yourself it was a dream. Oh, I'm so sorry!

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