Dreams

I put my baby girl down to sleep tonight and of course my heart fell out of my chest and rolled across the room. The beauty of a sleeping child would take the breath out of anyone. But this one is different, she is mine and the pressure on my chest is that much greater. I wonder what she dreams about, I love it when she tries to share her dreams with me. A little smile every now in then, even a little coo. Sometimes she tries to tell me about what she is seeing, although the words are muttled you can sense the emotion by her expression and tone. I love it. As I rock in the chair and look out into the dim light creeping into her bedroom from the hall, I start to drift in thought. Did my parents hold me like this and wonder what I was dreaming about? I wish I could ask them these things and enjoy their response. I can picture their smiles while they share memories of when we were babies and small children.
And then my thoughts travel to my parents, and I wonder what they dreamed about. When they were my age and just starting their own family, what did they want? Did they have as many goals and dreams as I do? I wish I could ask them these things. Once again I feel the pressure in my chest and I look back to see my heart still on the floor. I feel so far away from my memories of my parents and I am scared I will one day all together forget them. I feel like I never knew the people they really were. I was so young and immature when they were passing away that I never took the time to let them tell me their story. My whole life it was about me and my brothers and sisters. I guess we thought we would have the time later in life. Or maybe it wouldn't have ever been important to us to hear our parents story. I wish I had it now.
I had a patient that wrote her life story, it only took 50 pages that she typed up. But the picture it painted in your head was so beautiful. Along the way she would dot the pages with pictures on family and places she had been. In the end you felt like you knew this person as though she were a part of your life.
I get this ache and anxiety about me when I think about leaving my family before I have told my story. I want my daughter to know who I am. When she reads my entries in the journal I started writing her when I found out I was pregnant, I want her to feel the love pouring out onto the pages. Will she know that I could have stayed up for days without sleep because I wanted to make sure she was sleeping ok.
In time I will tell her all about it when I comb through the journals with her while on a special mother and daughter trip. And I will always hope I get to watch her walk down the aisle, kiss her true love, and start a new beginning. But just in case.....I will keep writing. In her journal and in mine and I will tell her my dreams, my fears, successes and failures. So she won't have to wish she had asked those questions when I was here.