I'm having a hard time today.

My first dream was that she was drinking heated formaldehyde to keep herself alive.

The second dream was a repeater.  It's always my first car miraculously running again.  I'm driving it to the house I grew up in.  Always.  This time, though, my mom was waiting on me there.  My subconscious has already packed her away to that part of me that keeps the mourning at bay.  I'm only able to mourn these things in my sleep.

So, twice I've woken myself up crying.  I'm supposed to be a stoic.

I miss my mom.