Last night I had nightmares again. I have them less frequently now, but when I do they are always the same.

Memories flood my thoughts, unwillingly, reminding me of the horrible things I’ve seen, I’ve heard, I’ve done.

But last night my cat woke me up crying. I must have been crying out in my sleep, because she was meowing, rubbing her face on mine to wake me up.

Other nights, my husband wakes me up. And he holds me and tells me it will be okay until I calm down.

My children have woken me up, and gently assured me while I wipe the tears away that, whatever I saw, wasn’t real.

They love me. And there’s not a bad dream I could have while I’m asleep that can take that away from me when I wake up.

Life is so much better now.