I was in London, England last weekend and found a little peace. Saturday morning I had a dream of Austin. So real. He was about 10 years old and lying down, asleep. I was leaning toward him, crying and thinking, "I hope my sweet baby doesn't know that he is going to die young. I don't want him to know what the future holds for him." He looked so sweet and innocent. I laid my hand on his arm and rubbed it. I felt his skin. Really. When I woke, I felt a mixture of sadness, from knowing his fate and happiness, from touching his warm skin. I can still feel his soft, warm skin.
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