When my son was a child, I kept a journal of letters addressed to him. Here is one:
Dear Googy,
The other night, while lying beside you in our usual night-night routine (hug-bug-rugs, kissi-kissos, a song and a story) I fell asleep and dreamed we were walking down a narrow, dark corridor, hand-in-hand. With each step, I began to shrivel and shrink just like in a horror-movie special effect. Older and older I became, smaller and smaller.
Nearing the end of the corridor, I saw two paths materialize before us with a mirror between them. In the dim light, I could see myself stooped, shrunken and wrinkled. Taken aback, I looked up to see that you had grown tall and straight and true, and your eyes sparkled with a wisdom that belied your age. I felt warm and content as we parted to pursue our separate destinies.
I awoke with such a feeling of connectedness that I couldn't leave you, so I spent the rest of the night in your bed, cuddled together like spoons.
Love,
Dad
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