words, fragments, goobers

dreams.

I woke up this morning in tears. My eyes were stinging and my nose was running.

I awoke from a dream that shook my world. I know that it would never happen, but it was still something I would never want to experience.

In one dream, I was chasing Griffin around and he was laughing his head off. I would grab him up and kiss his cheeks and he’d scream and wiggle free.

In another, he was fifteen years old (I often have dreams where he’s older), and I was helping him pack for a trip. He would hand me sweatshirts and I placed them carefully in the bag. Lindsay was in the room, but she left to grab something. It was quiet. I suddenly asked, “What kind of music do you listen to right now, baby?” (I will probably forever call him that, even when he’s old.) He didn’t say anything for a moment, so I turned to look at him. He was crying. He rubbed his eyes and walked to the corner of his room. I tried to figure out what I said that made him cry, but then he said, “I don’t even know you.” My heart dropped, but I smiled and zipped up the duffel bag, “You have your whole life to get to know me.”
He burst into tears and yelled, “No! I haven’t known you up until this point. I want to. You’re my mother, aren’t you? I miss you. I just…” He whispered as he sat on the floor, “I don’t even know what it feels like to touch you. Just be held by you as a child. I don’t know you.”
I sat down next to him and I hugged him and we just cried together. Then I woke up.

I know this is all a figment of my unconscious mind, and this is probably not what Griffin will say to me when he’s fifteen (hopefully), but I feel like I’m still trying to sort out my own feelings. I am so at peace about the adoption. I think my boy is in the best hands ever.

I just miss him a lot. I loved being his mommy.