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Remembering his Nightmares

Her eyes were distant, pained. “Before,” she continued, “If he went missing for a short amount of time I… freaked out. But now, I’m just glad to wake up in the morning and find him alive too. It’s changed the way I look at things. If he’s home a little late, I don’t ask why. At least he’s still with me.”
I nodded, “I guess I can understand that.”
She sighed, “But I wonder if that’s not enough. If I’ve failed as a mother or something.”
I shook my head vigorously, “No. You’ve done everything you can with what you were given. No one can ask for a better than that.”
“You know, I want to thank you, Paige,” his mom said softly, “Even if, in the long run, nothing does happen… when you first started… he was getting better. The nightmares seemed to stop, anyway.”
“Nightmares?” I said, looking up in surprise. This was news, not that I hadn’t expected it. Nightmares are common.
She nodded, “He wakes up screaming.”
I wasn’t sure which horrified me more: the screaming, or the matter-of-fact way she said it.

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