I thought I knew a world of sleepless nights and unending prayers.
I thought I knew a world of hope and dreams coming true.
I thought I knew a world with a little boy named Dustin.
I have always had a very active imagination. I can see dragons in the sky, flying overhead with the robins, and am afraid of monsters lurking in dark places. I can even see fairies hiding in flower beds. And, as a very imaginative person, I often have incredible, fantastical dreams- the inspirational for each of my stories came from dreams.
But never have I known one of my dreams to be so agonizing, painful and heart-breakingly convincing.
A few nights ago, I dreamt of waiting. Months of waiting and praying for approval to adopt a little, wide-eyed boy named Dustin. I remember of each prayer, each fit of tears, and of each sleepless night as we- my husband and I- waited for an answer.
I dreamed of meeting that little boy; 4 years old, trying to convince me he was actually 13. I dreamed of holding him and laughing with him, choosing him, and more importantly, being chosen in return.
I dreamed of the congratulatory phone call and how we had to hire a taxi to pick him up because we were too excited and nervous to drive safely.
Then I woke up and Dustin was gone. In the amber light of morning, my world shattered when I realized the perceived months I had spent agonizing over that little boy, were a figment of my imagination.
I cried when I realized: Dustin isn’t here, he was never real.
And yet, I remember him.
I remember the race car pajamas I had bought for him, and how he had a missing front tooth. I remember how he had wanted to call me “Moma”, because although I wasn’t his mother, I was pretty damned close.
I remember it all- not as a dream, filtered by a haze of sleep clouded memory- I can remember the smell of him, the sound of his voice and the weight of him in my arms.
The memory of a night’s fantasy has struck me dumb. Days later, thoughts of him still bring tears to my eyes. How can I have dreamed so vividly that I have imprinted a fiction on my heart?
