Last night, I dreamed I died.

In the dream, my death felt real. My body slowly gave up as cancer at its way through me. At the diagnosis, I knew that this was the beginning of the final chapter in my life. I didn’t feel hurt or scared or even surprised. I never went through any treatment. I said I wanted to die at home.

I went from the doctor’s appointment to a celebration. Without preamble, I announced my coming death. I didn’t cry. Family and friends surrounded me.I felt loved, celebrated, and confident in the future ending.

The following days, weeks, months were beautiful and sorrowful. A dream sequence of living, like watching a life lived through water. Family and friends and celebrations marked the passage of the every day. This filtered world radiated warmth, kindness, and joy.

I died. But it was only dream.

I woke up surprised to find my cheeks tear-stained, my dog at my feet, my husband next to me, and I breathed another breath.

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