I woke up to a dream. In this dream, I was an early teenager in the house I grew up in and my son was there. He was about seven in the dream and having trouble finding his teddy bear so he could go to sleep.
There were many bears in the house to choose from, but his was not among them. We talked of other things like people do when looking for something. Games he liked and what his friend were up to, what we were having for dinner and how growing things like to face the sun.
I woke upset. Partly because we never did find that bear in the dream and partly because I didn’t tell him how much I loved him before it was over.
The house I grew up in is no longer standing. My son is dead and gone. But I have that teddy bear in a box with a few of his other things.
The thing that feels wrong is the mix of things. My being about thirteen and he was seven. This was my childhood home and not the house he grew up in. And although he kept the bear from his childhood he didn’t play with or use it after the age of five. In fact it was not his favorite toy by a long run.
I never remember him sleeping with it. He favored hard plastic action figures and wooden blocks as bed pals.
Did I feel the need for some comforting? Was I feeling child like and at loose ends or lost? Or was it just some random memories mixed together to make a story in my mind?
I don’t know what it was saying, but I do know it made me miss my son all over again like he was here just yesterday.
Some dreams help and other are upsetting. But this one left me feeling empty and lost.
I hope all your dreams make your world a better place.