Mary is living with me. Both of us know she is dead. But she is real and solid. I can hold her. I can touch her. I can see her. She looks terrific. She looks like the Mary I knew before she became terminally ill. Mary is happy and active, and we are so very happy to be together. A child is with us  - a young child  - not a baby -- someone maybe 10 years old. I don't know whether this child is a boy or girl, or whether this child is Maria, Robert, or Adam. Yet it seems as though this is our child. Mary and I are very busy. But I don't know with what. Sometimes we are indoors, and sometimes we are outdoors. In the early part of the dream, Mary and I are hugging and kissing. When we disengage, I get a full view of Mary -- her face and her entire body. She is laughing. We are going through the house, room by room, but I don't know why we are doing this. We are on the lawn, in front of our house. Mary and I are very busy looking for something .A couple of older women walk by. One of them says she can't see Mary because Mary is dead. I answer her, saying that she may be dead, but I can certainly see her. The child also knows Mary is dead, but can see her as do I.