Thanks for the Glasses

Tracy Bradshaw

Thank you, Sawyer, for being in my dream this morning. I would like to share with you all that I can remember and my interpretation too…

You and I were going on a cruise. I had checked myself in and stepped ahead to turn and get a picture of you checking yourself in by sliding a card much like a self-checkout at Kroger. I hit the button to turn on my phone and tapped the camera app wanting to snap your photo. I was quite puzzled when a picture of Your Uncle Todd popped up on the screen in camera mode. It was his picture caught in midair as if he was in the middle of a big jump. I chuckled at the photo and tapped to return to camera mode as you swiped your card to board the cruise ship. You placed a pair of black framed glasses on the white swim platform and said that you needed to get some things from your room. When you left, I noticed water lapping up on the platform. I worried that your glasses would be washed away. Just as I was thinking that very thought a wave came up and slid across the platform taking your glasses with it. I watched as they began to very slowly sink into the water. I reached for them and they seemed to travel in slow motion remaining just beyond my fingertips. When my arm was completely submerged in the water, I still hadn’t reached the glasses. I thought that you might not be able to see without them and decided that I’d dive in for them. I retrieved the glasses from the ocean water and returned soaking wet and hair dripping. I opened the ear pieces. They were stretched out too far. I recognized them as an old pair of my own reading glasses that I didn’t want anymore and realized that they weren’t yours at all. When you returned you were younger and smaller. You stretched out on your stomach on the swim platform in a tight outfit which may have been a tightly wrapped towel, but it looked much like a strapless dress. I slid my hand under the fabric between your shoulders and felt the soft skin on your upper back. I raised the material and found it loose though visually it appeared to be so snug.

My limited interpretation – Since the day you passed away, I’ve been trying to save you somehow. Your love, your memory, your personality, your presence; I cannot allow these things to pass away too. I thought by sharing you via Sawbear I was saving you, but in reality, I was saving myself. Sawbear keeps me going because sharing you through his eyes, heart, and adventures gives me purpose. You left the glasses for me, so I can see what is closest to me. That understanding has been just out of my reach for several years. I had to submerge myself in Sawbear before I could see what saved me. Thanks for the glasses.

I love you, Sawyer. I miss your physical presence so very much.

Love, Mom
11-17-18