Slate’s series on grieving continues to blow me away. Meghan O’Rourke’s newest entry, “Dreaming of the Dead,” is almost eerily on point. What she writes about dreaming of her mother encapsulates many of my personal experiences. I find it incredibly comforting.
“What surprises me is how comforted I feel when I wake. I am sad that the dream has ended, but it's not the depleted sadness I've felt in the past when I've woken up from a wishful dream. I feel, instead, replete, reassured, like a child who has kicked the covers off her in her sleep on a chilly night and dimly senses as her mother steals into the dark room, pulls them up over her, strokes her hair, and gives her a kiss before leaving.”
I’ll continue to love this series unless she steals my book idea.