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.
UPDATE:
Some thoughts on dreams from Chabad.
