Ah, Sweet Guilt.

Chris was in my dream, again, last night.

I was trying to wash out the mason jar from which I drink water each day, but it kept overflowing with soapy suds. My sister said, “Oh, that’s too much soap. You can’t drink that.”

I began filling a large pot with water. Once filled, I placed the pot on the edge of the counter, but it fell onto the floor and the water spilled. My sister yelled, “Oh my god, Chris!”

When I turned and looked, Chris was on his back on the floor. He had slipped in the water and fallen and he sat on the floor laughing.

I raced over to him and hugged him, telling him “I’m so sorry!” I held onto him and my thoughts raced through my head, rapid fire, “cancer he has cancer he has cancer he has cancer he has cancer I gave him cancer.”

Then I woke up.