Friday, 26 February 2010
In the small hours of last night, I dreamt vividly that I was woken by the Lovely Son standing by my bedside, calling me to wake up, having travelled up from his home in London to surprise me. I was delighted to see him, and although taken aback by his unexpected arrival, didn't wonder at all at how tall he was (about 6" taller than in real life) or how much younger (by about 15 years).
I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me as I woke to realise it had just been a dream.
Later, I texted him about it, and received his response: he sometimes dreams that he can hear my voice calling him, and wakes with the same feeling of disappointment. Aaaaaawwww, bless.
(Mind you, I haven't ever noticed him being particularly thrilled to really hear me calling him to get up in the mornings.)
He's coming home next week, to do all those horrible, long-neglected odd jobs around the house, and give me the chance to spoil him a little. We can take turns at calling to each other to wake up.... or I can do what I usually do: sneakily, silently open his bedroom door a tiny way and let the besotted, waiting dog hurtle in to throw herself ecstatically on his sleeping form. Having your ear licked by a small wriggling dog is just the best way to feel really awake first thing...
Then the cats creep in, shyly and suspiciously at first, gradually becoming bolder and fiercer with their pouncing and bouncing, and my work is done for me. Getting out of bed starts to look like a good idea.
Posted by rachel at 20:11