I just woke up from the most amazing dream about Tristan. It felt so real that I was literally dumbfounded when I woke up. Yet it feels like it happened, somehow in the ether, if that’s even possible. Maybe it happened on another timeline, maybe we were both thinking about each other in this way at the moment I dreamt it. I dont know. But it feels real. And I felt it coming from him.

Two days ago I received the last of the boxes that had been sitting in the RV for the past few years. The last box that I opened was by far the most precious of all. It contained every beautiful drawing and painting and creation and love note that Tristan had made for me during the RV trip. I didnt get to keep the stuff of his from before the trip unfortunately, but this was still a huge treasure bundle. One of my favourite items was a book he made me for Mother’s Day. He used to write a note in it and stash it away somewhere for me to find, like under the covers of the bed or under my desk. Id reply and stash it somewhere for him to discover, and we’d communicate this way back and forth, with little secret silly messages for each other before the RV trip started. I very fortunately kept it with me for the trip too so I still have it. Oh my gosh we both loved this book so much!! In every message he’d write “Mom”, often at the beginning and sometimes the end of every sentence, and every time I read that word my heart would skip a beat. It would literally skip and thud. I could feel the excitement he felt when he wrote it because he loved to write it so much. This book is so special to me.

Today for no reason at all I fell asleep in the middle of the day and started dreaming. I was walking down a passage in some kind of public building, maybe a hospital I think… his grandmother bumped into me and said hi and I was so happy to see her. Then suddenly I spotted him standing at the corner at the end of the passage, saw me but wasnt sure if it was me so he turned the corner and started walking towards me… the second he recognised it was me for sure his eyes widened and he mouthed, “mom.” and started running towards me. I ran towards him and dropped to the ground as he threw his arms around me. There was a huge squeeze. I was sobbing. he was small, the size he was when I last laid eyes on him years ago so we were eyes to eyes at that height, both of us feeling tides of huge emotions clearly pouring out of our eyes as I put my hands on his precious cheeks, looked into his eyes and started telling him how very much I have missed him, that I’ve never stopped thinking about him and loving him, and that he will ALWAYS be in my heart, that he will always feel like my son no matter what anybody says or does it can never change, and he will always have a mother in me. We both started crying with happiness and hugged and hugged. I felt so much release and so much joy and everything glowed and lit up from the heart of us as we felt lighter and lighter, like an ascension of some kind, and then I woke up.

On Children (by Kahlil Gibran)

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Sus hijos (por Kahlil Gibran)

Sus hijos no son suyos.
Son los hijos del anhelo de la Vida de sí misma.
Vienen por Uds. pero no de Uds.,
Y aunque están con Uds., Uds. no los poseen a ellos.
Pueden darles su amor pero no sus pensamientos.
Porque ellos tienen sus propios pensamientos.
Uds. pueden alojar sus cuerpos pero no sus almas.
Porque sus almas viven en la casa del día que viene, la cual Uds. no pueden visitar, ni siquiera en los sueños.
Uds. pueden esforzarse por ser como ellos, pero no se esfuercen para que ellos sean como Uds.
Porque la vida no va atrás ni se demora con el ayer.
Uds. son los arcos de los cuales sus hijos como flechas vivas son enviados.
El arquero ve el blanco en el paso del infinito, y Él los dobla a Uds. con Su fuerza para que Sus flechas vayan rápidamente y lejos.
Que su torción en la mano del arquero sea por alegría;
Porque mientras Él ama a la flecha que vuela, también ama el arco que es estable.

Os filhos (por Khalil Gibran)

Teus filhos não são teus filhos
São os filhos e as filhas da ânsia da vida por si mesma.
Vêm através de ti, mas não de ti.
E embora vivam contigo, não te pertencem.
Podes dar teu amor, mas não teus pensamentos.
Porque eles têm seus próprios pensamentos.
Podes abrigar seus corpos, mas não suas almas;
Pois suas almas moram na mansão do amanhã, que não podes visitar nem mesmo em sonho
Podes tentar ser como eles, mas não tente fazê-los como és,
Porque a vida não anda para trás e não se demora com os dias passados.

Tu és o arco do qual teus filhos são arremessados como flechas vivas.
O Arqueiro mira o alvo na senda do infinito e estica com toda a sua força
Para que suas flechas se projetem rápido e para longe
Que teu encurvamento na mão do Arqueiro seja tua alegria;
Pois assim como Ele ama a flecha que voa, ama também o arco que permanece estável.

Keep those eyeballs of yours shining!

Love Love Love you with all my heart!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Tristan xxxxx

I hope you have the happiest day my sweet beautiful son. You’re the king of my castle :@)

I love you so very much!!!