I woke up the other morning feeling all warm and fuzzy.
I’d been hanging out with my friend Timmy. Russert.
He was there with me, smiling, cajoling, in my dream. It warmed my heart to see him happy and okay. We laughed and talked like old friends do. Obama. McCain. White boards.
Of course in the real world, we are not old friends. Of course, I’ve never met him. Of course this dream is wacky…
But it felt very real.
And it made me happy. Tim was happy. I was happy. I woke early, with a smile on my face.
Amy is my fellow early riser. Up with the sun on most days. This morning was no different as she wandered into the kitchen while I poured my first cup of Breakfast Blend.
“MMommm,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the light, “I had a dream…”
Assuming the worst, I grabbed her head and pulled her close.
“Oh no sweetie, what was it?”
Too much Scooby Doo I thought to myself. Always gives her bad dreams. She should not be watching Scooby right before bed.
She looked up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers.
“There were these people, scientists I think, and they found a cure for autism…All I had to do was pick the right medicine.”
I rubbed her head as she went on.
“I looked at all the different types of medicine and finally I picked the liquid medicine. I gave it to Jack..
And he started TALKING.”
I wondered to myself how this is screwing with her psyche. Having that built-in worry that she can’t even escape while sleeping.
But there she stood. Taller than she should be. Where did the time go? My baby girl, now loving big sister, wearing one of my old t-shirts that hung down to her knees. The one she’d slept in while dreaming about her first conversation with the little boy with the same gorgeous blue eyes. The blue eyes that were closed in peaceful sleep in the room right across the hall.
Maybe one day he’ll tell us his dreams too.