Some nights our daughter ends up in our bed. Like when she’s sick, obviously. Or like when my husband and I watched The Conjuring on Netflix (WHY did we do that?!) and brought her to bed with us to keep her safe from creepy entities. Our son was on his own. Not playing favourites, but he’s huge—too big for our bed and fully capable of fighting off creepy entities if need be.
Last night Avery ended up in our bed because she fell asleep there reading stories and she was just too comfy to move.
I love to snuggle with her and listen to her breathe, burying my face in her neck and cuddling all up in her sweetness. But then when I drift off to sleep and she starts tossing and turning and digging her toes into my rib cage, the charm wears off.
Last night before the barrage of flying feet and fists, I was deep in a dream. Though I tried to commit the details to memory, in the light of day the plot is fuzzy. I know I was about to give an order of some kind—something serious and life altering. I was hesitant and afraid. As I raised an arm in the air about to give the order (in my dream) Avery shouted, “No! Don’t do it!!” (in real life) and it woke me up. She was deep in her own dream. I don’t know what it was about, but somehow her reverie linked to mine.
Is it possible that we are connected in sleep as deeply as we are when we’re awake?
As I lay there, going over the details of my dream, trying to preserve them for the next day, I thought about my friend and how she opens her bedside table drawer to remind her in the morning that there is something she needs to remember. I laughed when she told me that she often spends hours trying and failing to recall the thing her bedside drawer is nudging her to remember.
My bedside table doesn’t have drawers. I used to keep a notebook beside my bed so I could jot down late night ideas or the details of my dreams. But then I stopped dreaming for awhile and I put the notebook away. I still have it though. Now that I’m dreaming again, I must remember to put it back on my nightstand.
Do you remember your dreams?
