I keep having this dream where I am a child again. All shorts and tees and puppy fat. With

sticky fingers and unwashed hair. I am in the garden, always in the garden. Crafting worlds

with an imagination unrestricted. And then a man appears at the garden wall. His face is all

soft like mom’s. His eyes look like mine, all blue and bright and hopeful. He comes into the

garden a little nervous. I tell him it’s okay and it feels okay and it is okay. He kneels in front

of me, just on one knee, the other one extending out like the rock in Lion King. He looks at

me and I look back at him. I am not afraid. He leans in and hugs me and I hug him back and

I can hear him saying, ‘It’ll be okay buddy, it’ll all be okay,’ and I believe him and all the

soreness I didn’t know was in my back releases. It’s just me and this man and the daisies in

this garden and we are hugging each other. Then he stands up and leaves again. And as I begin

to wake I realise that the man is me and the child is me and the hug is something I desperately