Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been having dreams about my daughter who died. This morning I awoke from a dream where I was visiting her and she and her exhusband and daughter and I were walking in the city, looking at shop windows and stalls. She was walking ahead of me and I noticed she was very thin, and very beautiful. My heart soared at her beauty, but I also knew her slenderness was the cancer. We decided to eat dinner at a restaurant, and we sat down and ordered. When our first course arrived, it was a thin, reddish soup, with raw sea creatures in it. The waiter spooned a small live turtle without its shell into my bowl. I knew I could not eat this soup, and was struggling with what to say or do, then I woke up. A tsunami of sadness brought tears to my eyes, and I got up feeling so sad, so sad. I told my husband about the dream and he said the turtle was our daughter. I cannot swallow this loss. But then, I felt better after telling him, and when I went on a walk this morning with my friend, she assured me that my sadness was impossible to avoid. She pointed out flowers along our way, and we stopped repeatedly to admire strange succulents, a school garden with sweetpeas, two small red barked trees with no leaves that were extraordinarily beautiful. We decided to have a cappuchino, and by the time we left each other, I felt much better. There is no way out of sadness except through it.