Still remembering

 Continuing the theme of memory, I had a dream last night that has stuck with me all day.  I don't remember the first part or the exact setting of the dream, but there was a threatening aspect to the situation. I was on a train with our second son, only he was a toddler, maybe 2 or 3. Old enough to talk, young enough to be held. At first we were playing some game where children were getting lost, so I grabbed my son and got on the train to go somewhere to rest and hide.  And he did rest - his little body relaxed into dreams. As I held his sleeping body, his face brightened into a smile. It was one of those sweet moments of total trust and relaxation when a baby knows he's safe with his mother, even though his mother knows she can't keep him completely safe.

In the dream, I knew I was dreaming, and I knew he was really grown up.  So even in the dream, I knew I should savor this moment, when I could love and hold him because he was small again. It was like I was able to time travel because I knew he would grow up fine, and I could hold him freely, almost with more love because I no longer worried about raising him. The dream was a gift; it was so realistic. It was a moment to forgive myself for the times I didn't sit down and hold my older babies without worry of what comes next. This may be what being a grandmother is like. 

I woke up slowly, relishing the feeling of his little boy body, the lightness and flexibility of his arms, the small of his head, the softness, etc.  And then I booked a trip to visit our son!