of nightmares and coffee

Today, right at this moment, I'm looking at my son, Dale, sleeping soundly in my bed. In his hand was a plastic toy flower. My mom gave it to him when he had a tantrum. He wanted to buy something from the store, but sadly, the stores were closed. So, in between sobs, he slept, flower in hand.

My mom went to sleep right after. She was exhausted. Oftentimes, dealing with Dale's tantrums can be physically draining, not to mention emotionally tiring. Mom couldn't stand it when Dale does something unusual, like look up at the ceiling and shake his head, or giggle for no apparent reason.

When I look at him like this, peacefully sleeping, I try to visualize what his dreams may be like. Does he dream at all? Does he have nightmares like we all do? If he does, what is it that he fears the most?

I wish he could tell me when he wakes up. I wish he can wake up in the middle of the night and cry and when I ask him he'll tell me "Mamaw!" just like his brother, Anton. But there were never moments like this.

But I'm still thankful and happy, for when he's awake he can now tell me what he wants... he points, and he whispers them to me. He looks for me now when I'm not in the room, shouting "Mommy!" while going to every room.

Two days ago, he woke up at 4:30 in the morning, he tugged at my hand, and I, thinking that he had a nightmare, told him "Ssh... what is it?", and he told me...

"Coffee?"

And then I looked at my son in the dark. I thought, I was wrong. I have to be thankful if he doesn't have nightmares.

You know what my nightmares are?

They're moments that Dale wakes up in the dark, just sitting beside me, staring at me, and not telling me what he wanted because he did not know how...

And they're moments when Dale wakes up in the middle of the night asking for coffee, but couldn't find me in the dark.

I was cleaning my files, and I saw this piece at the back of some of my papers... I'm not sure when I wrote this, years ago, i think.

I still have the same nightmares now and again.