It's the way he looks at me that I remember so clearly.
He is clearly puzzled.
He just cannot fathom why I thought he could not speak.
"Mommy, why did you think I can't speak? I'm talking to you right now! Look at me, we're talking."
And I say to myself, why did I ever think that?
Here we are talking, having a conversation.
Here I am loving your little voice, loving the absolute amazement in your voice, as you laugh, wondering why I ever doubted you could speak.
We have a good laugh, my son and I and he smiles.
It's the sunshine smile that melts hearts.
It is warm out and I feel so happy, and again I think to myself, what was I thinking?
I remember feeling so much relief because we are talking and I was somehow wrong.
How could I have thought that?
I spend a few more minutes marveling at the boy talking to me, scolding myself for having said to anyone my son can't speak, for even having thought such a thing.
Why did I say that, how could I have done such a thing?
And then I wake up, the sound of his voice still in my ears, hearing him say "Mommy, why did you think I can't speak?"
And I wipe away a few tears, and take a deep breath and try to go back to sleep.
This is my recurring dream as nightmare.
Some days it feels that we are a few syllables on the way to real speech, not signs or a computer-generated voice.
But I can't stop the dream from invading my sleep and can't tell whether it is a portent of the future or a message for me to release it.
Perhaps if I release my own dream for his voice the dream as nightmare will stop, but I'm not willing, or at all able at this point to let go.
Some thoughts on dreams from Chabad.