A dream is a wish your heart makes...

Please don't gag at the corny title.

Thanks.

Okay, so last night I had an incredibly vivid dream. Usually exhaustion prevents my remembering any dreams, but recently I've caught up on my sleep debt, and dreams like this last one are real enough to make me cry.

My parents burst upon us with the news that they were, in fact going to adopt another baby. A little boy. From Vietnam. (At this point in time, Julie pouted, "I don't wants a boy. I wants a girl!") At a family dinner they showed us his picture, his cute spiky hair going all over the place, stating his name was "Caden."

Because of work restrictions, Dad was unable to go with Mom to get him, but my cute, perky mother (pictured in my dream with her fabulous new hair cut) was only mildly daunted. Anything was worth it for her baby boy.

In my dream we stood there. Waiting. At the airport. And there, down the concourse, just like when I had first met my dear little "Bops," I saw them coming. I was laughing and crying, cuddling the newest addition to our family. Caden was looking at all of us with wide, sober eyes (as anyone would do upon first meeting our loud, boisterous family). His skin was soft. His eyes were dark. And in the corners of his expressions lurked an impishness just waiting for love to blossom.



And then I woke up.

But I remembered, all over again, the tears, the joy, the almost painful feeling of love that comes from letting a new little one into your family. Nothing can compare to the love that I feel for my darling little Julie Bop. Our family was empty before she came.

Maybe someday I'll adopt "Caden."

My heart misses him already...