I have had two significant dreams in my lifetime. Dreams that felt so incredibly real it was difficult to return to reality upon waking.
The first was a number of years ago. Waverly had lost all of her speech and I longed to hear her sweet voice again. I dreamt that she was playing in the forest. She was wearing a lovely little dress and she was singing a song Grover used to sing on 'Sesame Street': "around, around, around, around, over, under, through". And as she said each word she would act it out - twirling around tree trucks, jumping over fallen branches and ducking under low ones.
In this particular dream, I was an observer. Watching her dance without her knowing I was there. Part of me likes to think it was a taste of her whole and healed. No more Sanfilippo encumbering her. Just a happy little girl exploring the forest, where I have always feel peace.
A few weeks ago I had another dream. A nightmare. It was horrible and I awoke screaming and crying. It is still quite personal and I want to hold the memory close to my heart, but suffice it to say it was a dream about Waverly dying. I cannot adequately express the emotions I felt when I woke up. It was the most intense pain and indescribable ache. As if I was given a brief sample of what was in store.
I haven't been able to shake the fear. Was this a premonition or preparation? Each morning I fear opening up her bedroom door.
I *thought* I had an understanding of what grief will be like, but I was reminded that I have no clue. And how does one really prepare. The tiny taste I was given while I slept was enough to terrify me and weaken me.
A few weeks have passed and I can still vividly recall the dream. I can feel the fear. I have to keep reminding myself to be present and enjoy the moment. Make memories, soak up the smiles & giggles, steal hugs, and kiss chubby cheeks.