Recurring Dreams

As I drove Corinne to work this morning, she casually mentioned the recurring dream she has about Lauren.

…

Sigh.

There are two for me. Or I should say, one recurring dream and one recurring daydream.

The night-time-while-I'm-sleeping dream is quite silly, and in fact it's more of a memory than a dream. She's been potty trained, and has just used the toilet. At just two-and-a-half years old, she needs help pulling her pants back up. She looks up and asks me to help, I lean down to help her, and our foreheads (our "twoheads," as she says it) bonk. I look into her eyes, those crazy-big, brown, anime eyes, and am transfixed.

That's it, my dream-memory. Every night, over and over.

The daydream is entirely different. Every night when I go to bed, I can't help but seek her out. I see her, sleeping either on her right side with her arms by her side, or on her stomach, curled up but not quite fetal. Her head is always on the sheet instead of the pillow, her hair everywhere. I see every detail, and I savor them. I watch her breathe for a while, and then lean in to kiss her cheek near her ear.

She stirs, though. Even in my mind she stirs. “Opa?” “Go back to sleep, baby girl, I was just saying good night. I love you.” Then I'm gone, back in my own bed.

Mike and Shannon — and probably Brenda, too — would take even this away from me if they could. I'm sure of it, just as I'm sure they'd deny it.

[Top]