I had a strange dream about Kinsey the other night and I don't know if it was a cohesion of my thinking about Heroes or what. I don't remember my dreams a lot, but when I do, they're pretty rooted in reality (ok, sans the giant ant dream). This is unlike Sheryl who dreams about locomotives driving through our living room.
Somehow, Sheryl and I were Kinsey's adopted parents. And we'd just gotten word that her birth parents wanted her back and my heart was absolutely broken. I could imagine giving her up. I really really couldn't. But then we were at her birth parents house and getting ready to hand her over. I don't remember her crying, but I felt myself right on the verge of it, especially as I got out the letter that I'd written to read to her about how we would always love her and she would always be my little girl. It was at that moment that I remember watching her being born and that I was her real daddy, and the dream ended thankfully.
It's strange how those little things like that can get you through the defiant times and the "pretending I can't hear you" times. As frustrated as I get, I can't imagine being without her.
Although I did wonder what the significance of Connor having 9 toes was....
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