This is the third morning I’ve woke up crying from a dream of my grandma, Nana, dying. In each dream, she doesn’t just die from a disease or old age, but it’s always murder. I can’t really remember the first one but in the second one, my cousin, who I grew up with, and one of my coworkers murdered her, and I was trying to discover who bombed Nana’s hoel room in the third one (last night’s dream). I would understand it better if she were dying of natural causes, considering that’s my biggest fear right now ever since I lost Papa, but it’s the fact that it’s brutal murder scenes that is making me cry. I wish I could control my dreams when I want to.