a dream and a prayer

I had the most wonderful dream about Jocelyn last night.

Last night she came to me as a toddler, a baby really, those enormous dark brown eyes twinkling at me, her tiny pink mouth smirking and smiling. Her little body was bouncing and trembling with happiness. She wobbled around a table to me and reached up to be held, and in that dreamy way I could physically feel the smallness and buoyancy of her body. I could smell her milk breath, her soapy soft skin. Her fists grabbed at my hair and tugged it with baby strength.

Last night we traded deep stares and touched noses and clung to each other. We relayed our thoughts easily, without speaking. Everything was understood perfectly. No interference, no missteps, no regrets. Though she was a baby, she had already lived so much, and she was letting me know she was okay. I could, in a few giggling cuddles, relay my intentions. My immense love poured out and wrapped her up. She let me know she sees it all, even Colorado in retrospect, and I am here now, Mama, I love you, I need you.

In just a few minutes of cuddling, we burned through so many years of other people’s lies and abuses. I had time to correct my mistakes. We simmered in a chance to reclaim what was lost, and even more. Not just years but also memories, plans for the future, everything.

As I recall the details of the dream, I cannot remember how it ended. Just that we stayed together all day, in love and peace.

I miss her so much. I miss you so much, Jocelyn. I know I am supposed to focus on the good, and I really try to. I believe that Love wins and that what we have lost can at any moment be returned tenfold. I have been dreaming of her a lot lately, and maybe these dreams are gifts to remind me of that feeling. Because most of the time, awake, I just feel so much ache for my firstborn, anger and grief for the things she has endured, sadness mixed with admiration for the way she is forging through the world on her own. Just pain for the gaping emptiness our family feels without her.

I know she’s not a baby anymore, and she never will be again. But to me she will always be that beautiful and perfect, that full of energy and love, all promise and joy. To me Love will always win in her life. And I will always be here, ready when she is.

Until then, I am so grateful for every dream where she appears.

I love you, Joc.
XOXO