Last night, I woke up at 4a.m. and was not able to fall back to sleep. The dream that I had was so real as if it was actually happening. I had the full feelings and emotions and all that would be involved in real life.
I dreamed that I was holding the hand of a little boy. This little boy was around 6-7 years old. He was Caucasian with dark brown hair and brown eyes with a slightly darker or “tanned” complexion. I loved this little boy. He was my son.
Joe and I had adopted this beautiful little boy. But we were in danger. The little boy and I were walking through a “swamp-like” forest with random fires around us. We were being lead across a little bridge (the bridge was only a 2×4 piece of wood) by Joe who was in front of us. Joe was leading us out of the danger (up a medium sized hill) that was around us. Joe was very proud and his demeanor was if he knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going.
The part that stands out the most to me in this dream, was the feelings that I was feeling for this little boy. I knew that I was his parent and I wanted him to feel safe even though we both were afraid. I just wanted to nurture him, hold him, and love him. In the mist of all the danger, I just wanted to be there for him.