I woke up crying again.
It's the second time now.
The first time it was my dad. Tonight it was my mom.
I can't remember the dream from the first time.
I think there was an empty chair and we all knew it was Dad's,
but he'd never fill it because he was gone.
Seeing that empty chair made me cry.
This time I dreamt that I found a note written by my mom.
It was written in her pretty cursive writing,
before Parkinson's made it shaky and spidery.
It had a cartoon drawn on it,
which she never did,
but it said, "ALL MY SWEETHEARTS,"
which she tended to call us, especially as her old age made her more sentimental.
Sometimes it annoyed us when she was living.
Seeing that writing, that note, the "sweethearts"
made me cry, too.