Some thoughts on the loss of dreams:

Dreams and Imaginings

That first night in the hospital after Kelli was born, well, it was
basically just shock recovery time. But the following night . . . I remember
lying there on the couch in Nancy's hospital room, unable to sleep. A parade
of images passed before my eyes . . . the kind of dreams and unstated
assumptions that every parent has about their unborn child. It was just like
looking at a photo album full of "could-a-beens". There's dad in the front
yard, teaching his baby to throw a frisbee . . . here's another shot of Kelli at
her graduation . . . magna cum laude, and off to MIT! There she is watching TV
with Dad, both of them quietly rooting on the Red Sox (being careful not to
offend Yankee-fan-Mom!). Reading a book! Her first bicycle! Sailing near
Edgartown Harbor! Yes, even visions of the first female US president. As
each image came to me, I examined it, caressed it, and then put it away. In
the end, there was little Kelli, just the way she really was . . . alone in the
ICN, sick, everyone giving up on her. There was no flash of
revelation . . . just a certain knowledge that this little girl needed me more
than that dream girl ever would. The "could-a-beens" had become
"never-will-be's", and so it was time to dream a whole new batch of
imaginings . . . Drink from a bottle! Eat baby food! Roll over! Make it to her
First Birthday! Sit Up! Walk! . . . and on and on . . . and as she reaches each
new threshold, well, could I really have been any prouder or happier?

[written by Paul Cullivan]

Back to Kelli's home page

This page was last updated 11/2/98.
Webpage master: