Wailsong
18 July, 2018
I’m at home, in bed at night, maybe very early morning (pre-dawn) and I wake to the sound of my younger sister sobbing quietly outside my bedroom door.

I get out of bed to look, and she is lying in foetal position (repose pose, or ‘child pose’ in yoga terms), where my cat’s basket usually is, in front of the fire. The basket isn’t there.

We have been aware that my father might die soon (in reality he is already dead), so I presume it has happened and ask her ‘ is he dead?’. She nods. I start to walk over to where my cat usually sits in the morning in the sun, and on the way collapse slowly onto the ground. I start to wail from a very deep place, in a kind of 'wailsong'. It’s quite beautiful really, and I feel like I have touched my grief. It doesn’t last long though - I quick recovery and stand up as the morning rises through the large windows, and walk quietly back over to my sister. Dream ends.