Soft, linens line the bed, several shades of white, ecru, and eggshell. Each to enhance the other, and counter the warm sage walls of the room’s interior. Rustic white book shelves line the walls in this room filled with books and memories and forgotten toys. There is a big comfy white chair in the corner, covered with a brilliant red throw blanket and a set of discarded clothes. On the floor is a plush woven rug in muted shades of red, white, and sage.
On the walls are photos of our happy family, my gorgeous blonde boys and myself. (Of course as this is a dream) I am perfect and happy and holding the hands of a man who at the moment I do not know. The photo is black and white and I am smiling one of those smiles that can only exist in true joy. I see by his back that he is taller than me, light-colored hair and broad-shouldered. But that is all that I know.
In the distance, through the open window, I can hear wind chimes fluttering in the breeze. Their delicate twinkling song my true alarm on this particular morning. My eyes pause momentarily watching the curtain dancing in the wind.
Blinking, my eyes turn at the pat, pat, pat of feet on the wooden surface of the floor as my darling baby boy comes down the hall to my room.
I smile as a second pair of feet join the pat, pat, pat down the hall. These more determined. The feet of my older son, come to wake me.
Just then an arm comes to encircle me and hold me tight with a light kiss on my cheek as we wait. It is one of the softest, most reassuring of life’s bliss kisses. I turn to my love and I smile, but the door opens just the same. In bound my two beautiful boys. I never see the man.
Wouldn’t it be nicer of fate to have shared that tidbit?
I dream of happiness. Contentment. A place of being that is mine and that I share. I do not fear that it will never happen for me. I just hate the waiting. We spend our lives waiting for something to happen. Just as we expect something to change, we suffer a mild disappointment and start waiting again.
What do you dream? What do you wait on? Try to remember, write it down and think about what it means to you. Who cares what a book says, what does it mean to you.