I'm making breakfast in a sunlight kitchen on a breezy summer morning. Blueberry pancakes. With whipped cream. I'm wearing yoga pants, a maternity shirt, and a bathrobe. There are lilacs in a mason jar on top of the microwave. I hear the smacking of barefoot feet on the hardwood and giggles.
"We're going to go wake up Daddy!" says a befreckled girl who's missing teeth. Gideon shakes his head as he sits down on the floor and leans his sleepy head against a cabinet. In my dream he reminds me of a red headed version of my brother in law, Peter, who is 10. "Not me" he says "I choose life."
The little girl patters off followed by a little boy and a toddler. They are pretending to sneak up on the bedroom door but failing miserably at being quiet in that way that only children can. They burst through the door and I hear shrieks of laughter followed by groans from Silas.
This is the life.
I've had this dream ever since I can remember. As time has gone by I've filled in bits and pieces of it. Silas, Gideon, the lilacs. And as time goes by I'm looking forward to filling in more of those details.
I'm sharing with you because this week has been a bit of a ringer and I sat down to write intending to make up a list of grievances. Then I realized that not only would that not make me feel better, but it would probably make me feel worse. So I chose to share this instead.
Peace and dreams,