This afternoon (New York time) my godson called me from Amsterdam. He was home alone and he said: “I had a nightmare, I was sleeping and I dreamt that mama was dead.”
“It was just a dream,” I said. “She is alive and kicking.”
Then he called again and I said: “Take a teddy bear, there must be somewhere in your bed a teddy bear, hug the teddy bear, you should hug him as if you haven’t seen the teddy bear in years. That should help.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” I answered.