The infant was wrapped loosely in a blanket. I held “her” in my arms, but she was barely responsive. As I went from place to place, she became lighter, more transparent.
I realized that I was losing her, she was going to become so light that I would not be able to hold her to the earth much longer. The baby would float out of my arms and disappear in the clouds.
As I gazed at the baby’s sweet face, I felt a jolt of recognition. The hair was sparse and brown, her eyes were large and hazel, her forehead wide. I suddenly recognized the babe in my arms, not a she, but a he- my son.
I held this babe close as I sat down in a grassy meadow. My brother sat beside me. He asked me if I was ready to let go.
Large, fat tears splashed on the baby’s face. Eyes closed I slowly loosened my grasp, and felt him leave the warmth of my embrace.
The blanket now an empty shell, and I awoke with tears drying on my cheeks.