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A hell of a dream
I had an incredibly bad dream this morning.
I woke up. And suddenly I remembered that we had had another child before Sebastian; a little boy, very much like him but without red hair. And for some reason, we'd given him away to an ignorant young couple that could only be described as white trash. They'd taken him away to live with them in Texas. The pain had been so great that for years we simply couldn't bear to think about it...and we'd ended up forgetting about our first son almost completely.
Until, for some reason, I suddenly remembered him.
We hadn't given him away as a baby; he'd been three or four years old, bright and talkative and loving. We'd promised to talk to him and see him again. But we didn't. And I could only wonder what our precious, intelligent little boy had come to in the care of those trashy strangers.
Throughout the dream, I was sobbing uncontrollably. The thought of our little guy in the hands of strangers, wondering what had happened to us or perhaps forgetting us, was more than I could bear.
I woke up. And suddenly I remembered that we had had another child before Sebastian; a little boy, very much like him but without red hair. And for some reason, we'd given him away to an ignorant young couple that could only be described as white trash. They'd taken him away to live with them in Texas. The pain had been so great that for years we simply couldn't bear to think about it...and we'd ended up forgetting about our first son almost completely.
Until, for some reason, I suddenly remembered him.
We hadn't given him away as a baby; he'd been three or four years old, bright and talkative and loving. We'd promised to talk to him and see him again. But we didn't. And I could only wonder what our precious, intelligent little boy had come to in the care of those trashy strangers.
Throughout the dream, I was sobbing uncontrollably. The thought of our little guy in the hands of strangers, wondering what had happened to us or perhaps forgetting us, was more than I could bear.