There was that recurring dream…that one I asked God to stop–not because it was scary, but because I was so sad when I woke up and it wasn’t real. In my dream, Nathan (my son with autism), was talking and laughing and communicating normally with me. It was as if nothing was wrong with him. It was as if autism was the dream.
My joy in the dream was so immensely tangible. I talked to–really talked to and played with my boy. I loved that dream!
And then I’d wake up.
And as the blissful dream slipped from my mind and reality crashed into my mind, I cried. I grieved. I mourned—again, and again, and again, with each ensuing dream.
Finally, I did ask God to take the dreams away because the trauma of waking up and grieving my “normal child” each morning was too painful for my mama heart to handle.
I haven’t dreamed about my “normal” Nathan since.
You might consider me weak. I am sorry that I was not strong enough to dream. The reality was too harsh to face each morning. I am stronger now, but not strong enough to pray for the dreams to come back.
Maybe someday when heaven is closer I will have the courage to dream again. In that day when the resurrection touches all of us, the innocent soul I have been blessed to raise will finally receive a perfected body, thanks to the Savior.
In that day, I will finally get to see that dream become a reality. I can hardly wait for that dream to come true, when I will ultimately communicate with my Nathan and we will laugh and talk like everyone else. We won’t be hampered autism anymore. And I won’t have to wake up and see it all disappear.
If you were touched, please share. Happy Easter!