Daniel, again

I dreamed of my little Daniel early this morning. He was walking down
a corridor with a bandage and surgical tape sticking out of the back
of his head. I called his name and eagerly, filled with warmth and
smiles, he came and sat in my lap. We talked and laughed as though
we had just seen each other. As though it has not been 11 years
since I grinned over one of his jokes.

I dreamed of Daniel, my son. There are gifts and then, there are
gifts. The joy from that dream is a gift that is impossible to
describe unless you've had the experience to join your precious
child in the realms of a dream... Because once a child dies, the
dreams are all you get.