The Recurring Nightmare

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I used to have a recurring dream where I'm desperately trying to save my late daughter, D'Koda. These dreams have become less frequent over time, but they still haunt me a few times a year. Today was one of those days. 😭😫😭

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In my dream, I'm racing against time to reach D'Koda's hospital room. However, my journey is packed with obstacles...(First Dream)..I forget my drivers license to get inside the hospital and must return to a hotel to retrieve it and the hotel room is disgusting so I try to speak with management to clean the room and get us another room but they told me to leave. I go back to the hospital and end up in the stairwell of the morgue. 

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(Second Dream)..The car I'm driving to get to the hospital overheats and I pull into a gas station, the hood of the car is literally melting off and a stranger runs out of the store to try to help me with the car since it's smoking at this point, but in a blink of an eye; it explodes while I'm still in the car, on the phone with my Mama. 

(Third Dream)..I'm running with D'Koda's father and my sister to get to the hospital when we almost get hit by a train. We have to hold each other while the train passes so we won't be taken away with it.

Despite these challenges, I finally arrive at the hospital, only to find that it's transformed into a sprawling mall. (This was my actual first impression of the children's hospital where D'Koda was-- where billions of dollars seemed to have created a self-sustaining system.)

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Back in my dream, I frantically search for D'Koda's room, but I keep ending up in the stairwell of the morgue. The dream restarts, and I'm back at square one, doomed to repeat the same futile efforts; just in a different matter.

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The final blow comes when D'Koda's father confronts me, his voice laced with accusation: "So, you still let her die?!" I shake my head and start crying uncontrollably, overwhelmed by grief and guilt and say, "No!". He walks away; leaving me alone. 

I wake up to the sound of my Mama's voice, bearing lunch. 

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The physical toll of my dream is palpable – my legs ache from the relentless running, and my stomach churns with anxiety. It's a daily reminder that, even years later, the wounds of loss and guilt remain raw and unhealed.