I thought I would have dreams of the same scene mom dreamt of, since my head is quite actively fanciful. vigorously actually. But, I dreamt of something entirely different. It was such a beautifully untrue 'dream'.
I woke up wanting to go back to sleep in a hope I would see more of that gauze of that sweet vision. End up quoting Shakespeare:
"Prospero:The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.