I had a dream about my little boy last night. Immediately after he died, I had dreams that were more like anxiety-induced nightmares in which my mind replayed scenes from his birth and death over and over again, trying to make sense of the reality that he was gone.
Last night's dream was different. He was not a newborn, but a 7 month old baby, as he would be now. In my dream, he still had cardiomyopathy, but he didn't die, and he was home with us growing big and strong. I kept taking photos of him in his crib, which was probably influenced by something I had been reading about vintage memorial photography in my waking life. When I picked him up, I felt like I could really smell and feel him. He kept saying "ya-ya."
The dream didn't upset me at first, but as the day has gone by, I guess it has made me a little sad. Some people would believe that this was his way of telling me that he's okay now, although his spirit has taken a different form. I'm not sure what to believe. I just miss him. No matter what anyone says, I do feel that I continue to have a relationship with him on some level. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what that is.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
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