This past week, I have not gotten restful sleep. Poor Peter has been sick since Tuesday, with the other kids getting less severe versions of the illness throughout the week. Today is the first day that I can truly say I think he is on the mend. I don't know about you, but when I am bone-tired exhausted from caring for little people all through the night, my dreams get a little strange. I dreamt that Tony blew all our savings on something very frivolous and the dream was so real, that I had to keep reminding myself throughout the day that he had not really done anything wrong!
Several times this week, I have also had that deja-vu sensation. I never know what to make of it when that happens. Sometimes I think it means that I am where God wants me to be since it seems like I have already lived it before. It probably just means that I need a nap!
Usually, my dreams are fraught with anxiety when I am over-tired. But I had a surprisingly beautiful dream last night. In the six years since Ben died, I have had only a handful of dreams about him. The one I remember most occurred a few months after he died. I could see him through a glass partition, almost like a prison visit. It was obvious that I was not allowed access to where he was. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could tell he was trying to comfort me and let me know he was happy. Last night, though, I dreamed that we were celebrating Ben being a teenager and he was alive. It was a party with lots of family and friends and I was tearing up, seeing him grown into a young man. So proud of who he was becoming.
Tonight, as I get ready to go to bed, I am hoping that all my babies sleep through the night and that we all wake up refreshed and renewed. As I tell my kids each night when I tuck them in, "sweet dreams".