The Stuff Dreams are made of....


And did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange
a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
~Wish you were here/Pink Floyd

A couple of nights ago Dear Husband and I were having a late dinner alone, which is unusual.  It was also a nice treat.  To sit and talk at a reasonable volume, across the table from one another.  No cutting meat, no reminding people to sit up straight ad naseum.  Just us..talking. 

And I am not sure how it came up, but we begin  talking about dreams.  He tells me that upon his return to the U.S., the most immediate emotion he felt was relief.   Relieved, that the children and I were safe.    This surprised me.  Worry? 

This was suprising to hear from him, as I am an independent woman.   I manage. 

He said he was simply just worried and concerned for the entire 18 month separation/deployment about "our safety".  And the moment he got off of the elevator, he felt a rush of relief. 

He tells me, he had spent many nights dreaming, and in his dreams I would appear and he would be so happy to see me.  And then he would panic in his dream and want me "to go far away, some place safe, and far away from Baghdad".

So I sat and listened to his stories of dreams.  A part of me sad that he could not dream of me sweetly, while away.   I was also so honored that he loved me enough to protect me, even  in his dreams.

Story Continues

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