A bad dream

I had a dream last night about Flynn.  He was supposed to be in hospital having an operation.  It was nighttime and it was raining hard.  I got to the children's ward and there were many children of different ages lying in cots, some waking up from operations, or waiting for operations, or sleeping.  Flynn's favourite nurse was there and so was my mother and sister.  Flynn's bed was empty and noone could tell me where he was.  I thought I saw him in a cot at the end of the room but when I got closer I could see it wasn't him.  My mum gave me a basket of little gifts, things like hair pins, a bookmark and then something made of leather with writing on the back.  On it it said that 'Flynn never stopped living' and 'he lived all his life'.  I broke down in tears in my dream but I didn't realise that he was no longer with us.  The scene changed and I decided to go looking for Flynn in the operating rooms.  I convinced a man with a large axe to come with me and dress up in scrubs and gloves to blend in.  We were dressed in booties, surgical scrubs and hats and had surgical gloves on as well.  As we walked through the doors to the operating theatres nurses greeted me as a doctor and told me that the operating room was already 'sir'.  I awoke to the sound of the phone ringing, a tightness in my throat and tears in my heart.  I couldn't find my boy.