Yesterday morning, I found myself napping beside my baby. It was still early, and I took the time to nap while my baby dozed off dreaming of a million things unknown to me. He giggled while he dreamt the minutes away.

I had my own dream. I found myself in front of a house that felt very familiar, but looked different from anything I've seen. I went in through the front door, calling out, "Tao po?" It was then that I felt the presence of another person. It was Lany, my friend for 15 years. I was surprised to see she had cut her hair so short. She had always worn her hair long. I hugged her, the way anyone would a long lost friend. "They found a tumor in me," she said flatly. I felt a sudden longing, a deep sense of love and sadness. I missed her, and now this bad news.

Lany was special to me. I loved her. But not in a romantic way. I loved her like a sister? Not really. It was different. She was a friend I loved, more like kin, but a little different. She taught me that it was possible to love and not fall-in-love. Platonic, maybe? I doubt. That word is as vague as you can get. A little more like the way Christ wanted us all to love one another. But I must admit that mine is much less greater than that.

I woke to find my baby's flailing arms patting softly on my chest. I smiled and whispered a little prayer. I hope Lany and her baby are alright. She's giving birth to her second child in about a month or so. I pray my dream was nothing more than my subconscious telling me I miss her. I looked at my son and smiled. He was giggling at me. I knew everything would be alright. God is good to us all. All the time. He will be there for Lany and her daughter.