Last night, in my dream, I saw Grey. But it was different, almost like I wasn't dreaming at all.
I was laying in my bed. I sat up and saw Grey, sitting on a stool at a fold-out table. He was coloring. He would color, then look up at me and smile.
I noticed he was coloring with his left hand, which was amusing to me. I've always teased Bill that none of our kids, like him, are left-handed. Grey died before we could really determine that. So, to see him coloring with his left hand made me smile. Yet another way that he was like his dad.
I sat up and called his name. He looked at me, smiled, and waved. I woke up, sitting straight up in my bed, waving. I looked out into the living room and could swear that I saw him. So much so, that I grabbed my glasses and put them on.
He was gone. But I had a strong sense that he was doing just fine, a peace that I haven't felt in awhile.
My little left-hander.