10th anniversary

Last night I dreamt about you. We had a wonderful catch-up, and it felt so nice to see you growing older, like me. You felt familiar, like we always knew we would find each other again. Like it just made sense.

After we said goodbye, I realised I was about to witness a tsunami. I had my phone ready to record it. The ocean was pulling the water back as I searched for high enough ground to see it, but not be swept away. The first wave came, it still reached my feet, so I moved even higher.

I’ve seen you before in dreams, always keeping up with my age, as if you were growing older too. Last time you were more built, like your 30s had just settled in. This time, you felt closer to your 40s -like me, with some hair loss, but still athletic, still tall.

As I kept recording the next waves, still feeling your presence, I realised how at peace I was. Unbothered, yet amazed by the tsunami unfolding. Holding onto the feeling of having just seen you, and knowing you would visit me again in my dreams… maybe when we are even older.

I woke up happy to have spent time with you, even if it was just a dream. Seeing you grow older, knowing I won’t ever witness that part of your life in reality. Nobody will. And yet, in that brief, dreamy catch-up, you gave me peace. It felt like an acknowledgment that you’re still there, somehow, looking over my shoulder, telling me I’m doing well, living the life you no longer live.

The calm of that encounter, and the quiet reassurance that followed through the…