His letter ... just a dream

I woke up this morning and remembered a wonderful dream I had just been having. My son wrote me. In my dream, he was about 14 rather than 18. I could see him writing to me although obviously in real life I couldn't have, so I should have noticed in my dream that I was dreaming. (I usually do when there are inconsistencies like that.) I think part of me needed to just enjoy the dream.

His letter was about one page and handwritten in a jerky schoolboy way. He asked me who my daughter's babysitter was and if she liked her babysitter. I don't remember the other parts of the letter although there were other questions. I remember realizing that I could write him back and that I could do it right away. I have been so conditioned to his mother's once a year letters that usually have no direct response to the previous letter from me.

So obviously part of me is still very much hoping for contact now that he is 18.