Last night I had a dream about Thomas, the first one I've had in years. In fact, it's probably only the third dream I've ever had about him.
My theory is that someone who is so much a part of your waking thoughts doesn't need to be in your sleeping ones too.
In my dream, which is hazy and a little confusing, I somehow found a picture of him that I didn't know existed. Someone was flipping through a stack of pictures and I caught sight of a baby wearing a mint green bonnet and sweater like the ones my Mom made for Thomas, the ones he's buried in.
I couldn't see the picture clearly at first, and I nearly missed it in the flipping, but when I took it and looked at it closely I realized it was my sweet little boy. I held it and looked at it and felt a heart-pounding rush of joy because it was a new picture. it wasn't one of the 40 we have, the 40 I've looked at over and over and over again. The only 40 we'll ever have.
It was new.
I could seem my little boy in a new picture for the first time in three years. A new glimpse of his face, his sandy brown hair, his pudgy little nose, and his eyes and chin that looked so much like My Beloved's.
It might as well have been a cheque for $10 million dollars.
The rush of love and joy somehow washed the dream away. And I woke up without a new picture. Without anything at all.
And I hate that.
5 comments:
Oh my gosh. I have had so many dreams about Chris or my dad, though none for ages now. At first they terrified me, and now I mostly look forward to them, if only as a way to spend a bit of time in their company. Even though it's always weird and confusing and ultimately, when I wake up, so sad and disorienting. The first one I had about my dad, a week or so after he died, I woke Kev up because I was shouting, repeatedly, What are you doing here? I still feel that way, I have to say...though eight years out (for Chris) and three for my dad, I am, as I say, trying to be glad to see them.
But, yeah, that rush of joy and love...it is real. So real. I have no point here, I've just realised. Except to say, in some small way, I feel you.
No words. Just hugs.
You awoke with having felt a "rush of love and joy" after spending a bit of time looking at your son.
What a treasure.
Surely, he was checking in on you, letting you know that you're on the right track.
I know that feeling. At Thanksgiving I had a dream about Sara and her baby brother Ethan. I was so happy to 'see' them together, but then was so very sad when I woke up and hit me so hard that I'll never see them together in real life.
((HUGS))
Big, big hugs to you.
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