I dreamed about Mufasa last night for the first time since he died. In my dream, he was still sick, but I had opted to bring him home instead of putting him down. Every time I left the house, I would hug him and cry because I never knew if he would be alive when I returned. His wheezing got worse and worse, and I became even more depressed with each day.
I woke up before the inevitable happened, but I can’t help but think that that was a glimpse into what might have been. And what kind of a life is that for both me and Mufasa? I wonder if either God and/or my inner conscious are trying to tell me I made the right decision.
If that truly is what the present could have been like, then I did make the right decision. Now I have to accept what I know.
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