I’m in a deep soupy sleep but something is tugging me into consciousness. I hear my name being called: not yelled, not moaned but with a tone that signals urgency and concern. I leap out of bed before my eyes are even open, senses alert, even though the grey matter is still revving up.
I enter your room and your eyes immediately find me, wide open but droopy, petrified but relieved, covers askew.
“Mama!” you breathe.
I sit down and you throw your arms around my neck, your skin sweaty and damp and smelling like a boy. You cling on to me and I let you, hoping this intense contact will chase away whatever monsters, scary thoughts or fears had the audacity of invading your dreams. I feel your pulse slowing down, your fear unwinding, your muscles and mind letting go of the adrenalin, the panic, the confusion. I am sorely tempted to climb under the covers with you and hold you tight against me forever.
Instead, I carefully help you lie back down, flip your pillow over so its cool side calms your flushed cheeks. I rub your back in hypnotic circles. Your eyelids flutter, your breath deepens and once again, you are in dreamland, hopefully this time a place filled with fun and smiles and adventures.
Having performed Mama Magic, I tip toe out of the room, eager to get back to my own bed and my own dreamland.
Just as I get to the door ….. “Mama!”
And so it goes.