Interlude - A Dream

I heard a loud commotion and some laughing in the bathroom at the house, and walked through my room to see what was going on.   And there was Sam and Davis, just little ones when they were about 5 and 3 years old.   They were making a mess playing with the clothes scattered on the floor.   I had not seen them at this age in a long time, and at first I could not walk in there, but only stand hypnotized at the bathroom door smiling at my little boys.  They both looked up and saw me, both grinning their unique smiles, not saying anything, but in their smiles inviting me to come play with them.   It was here that I realized that I was in a dream, but here that I realized that I had never been in a dream that was so real.   I ran to them both and hugged them tightly, feeling the pain of age and years pulling at me.   I knew I did not have long, so I just held them until the inevitable happened, I woke up.

And in a sleeping bag in Cherokee Rock Village, I woke not being able to breath.   I woke to pains tight in my chest.   I woke to tears rolling down my cheek as they are now as I write these memories down.   I can not remember a dream ever feeling so real.   I remember these pains as we prepared for Sam to move away, and feel them beginning the same again with Davis.   But hugging my baby boys was a moment that I will treasure, even if just a silly dream.   

I slipped out of the tent that night and walked to the edge of the woods, and I cried.   And it was hard ugly crying.   I never knew what it would be like when they started moving away.   Our family has always been very close, but now it is growing distant.   There are joys in every phase of life, and joys ahead, but this dream was just a hard push to a time when those boys just loved giving hugs and loved wrestling on the floor and loved seeing those Disney characters and eyes wide with the magic of life...those days have slipped by.   

I tried to share some of this dream with my little buddy Ruby, but my super mature 11 year old knew it where it was going and quickly told me to stop as I could see her little tears.   And Davis may remember me trying to tell him about it after pickleball one night heading home.   My little boys are almost gone, and life will continue.   But if they ever find this blog, I guess they will see that dear old dad maybe didn't show all the emotion that their sweet mom always shows to them, but there is a sleeping bag that is forever stained with tears from a dad that will always love his boys.   Love you Sam.   Love you Davis.   If you read this, I would love a hug.