It's hard, now, to talk about dreaming for The Oldest Hardest because it's so nearly impossible for him to dream. All I've ever wanted - all I want now - is for both of my sons to be happy, healthy, loved and proud of themselves.
I've shared in their dreams, as long as they would share them with me. The Oldest s early dreams to be a marine biologist, so he could help save all the water creatures he so loves and finds affinity with. The Little One's dreams - much to my dismay - of being an Army officer. Or of building the world's first ... oh wait, that's a secret, and a brilliant one I like to remind him of.
Later, I supported The Oldest s dreams of travelling the world as a snow boarder and cook - people need to eat wherever you go, he told me, and it's something he enjoys that comes easily to him. So he'd always be able to find work chasing the best snow packs, wherever he may be.
I saw that dream die the day he pawned his snowboard - for drug money, I assume now.
It worked, for a couple of months at least.
He doesn't dream anymore. Doesn't see the point of it. Sometimes, if it's been a really good week or he's had some recent insight, or a really cute and understanding girl is interested in him, he talks a little about the future. Maybe he could help other people avoid the paths he's chosen. Maybe he can travel again - that travel bug runs generations deep.
But mostly he's too busy surviving to dream. And so my dreams come back to that old refrain.
Let him be happy. Let him get healthy. Let him know he is loved. Let him feel proud of who he is.
Scintilla Bonus Prompt:
What is one massively impossible dream you've always had?