Bad Dreams

I have very vivid day dreams. Sometimes, my day dreams are much more realistic and captivating than any dream I have had in my sleep. Even more dangerous yet are the dreams that I have when in that almost asleep state, right before I slip into a seven hour slumber. My mind has always been prone to wander. I seem to most often explore the feelings that I have never felt, experiences that I would like to lay claim to, and events that have yet to happen. There is something intriguing and terrifying about the unknown, and my mind seems to travel to the things that I don't know much about at all.

This should be a relaxing place

When I began this blog, I wrote a few on death. I have never experienced death, and my one and only near death experience found me in the hospital high on morphine. My life didn't flash before my eyes and I didn't need to say any goodbyes just in case I didn't make it. In fact, I didn't know the severity of the situation until after my surgery, when my doctor came in and told me what had happened. And I have never had anyone close to my heart pass away. I have been to funerals of extended family members, cried a couple tears of mourning, but my heart was not connected to the people who had passed. My mom and siblings are alive and well, my friends are all living vibrant, healthy lives, and there is not one person in my family with a known terminal illness. I suppose that I am lucky in this way. Death has never been something looming over myself or my family, because it seems to be rare and the cause is natural.

I have touched on what I am about to before. I think about my own death at times, but truthfully I do not fear it all that much. I have lived a good life. It has been full of love and grace and I am truly blessed. And the fact that I don't know when or how I will die prevents me from dwelling on it. I am glad I don't know those things. But I think about my husband passing, or one of my siblings, and I cannot fathom living my life without them I don't know what I would do.

A few nights ago, I was about to sleep. I laid down, relaxed and at ease, and buried myself deeper under the duvet and closer to the warmth of my husband's body. He passed out nearly right away; I have always been envious of his ability to lay down and be asleep within five minutes. I laid awake for a bit, checked my facebook on my phone a few times, and finally lay still on my back waiting for the Sandman to take me away. Then I dreamt. I dreamt that my husband was away, but this time he wasn't coming home. I wept. I called his parents, told them the news, then my mom, then our friends. I sat at the funeral in the front row, crying silently, not really paying attention to much of anything. I stood motionless at the wake, showing little emotion while I avoided any sort of human interaction. I came home to an empty house, wearing all black. I put off doing the laundry for as long as I could, not wanting to wash the last of his clothes for the last time. I didn't move anything. I collected life insurance, took leave from my job, and left. I don't know where I went, I just left. I couldn't be there. I couldn't be in the home that we had built together with all of his things and the photos, and no possibility of ever seeing him again. I have never felt so hopeless. I woke up with tears streaming down my face. I rolled over, into my husband's shoulder, and just stayed there. I am so thankful that a life without him is not my reality.

I think that if he were to die tomorrow, this would be an accurate representation of my reaction. I know that I have never experiences grief of this magnitude, but he is my life. He is my best friend and my biggest support. Before I met him it was the excited expectancy that I would one day meet the love of my life that kept me going from day to day. And now that I have met and come to deeply love him, I don't know how to do without him. It would be different if we had kids. I would have beautiful gifts, pieces of him that I would set my own grief aside for. But without something like that, I don't know how or when I would move forward. That's scary.

I have idea why I have been considering this so much lately. I think that I have contemplated death and all that comes with it more in the past few months than I have in my entire life. Perhaps it's the fact that everyone experiences it differently. I don't know what my reaction will be. I don't know what stage of life I will be in when someone close to me passes. The only thing that I concretely know about death is that it is inevitable.

I'm not looking for comfort. I'm not even looking for answers. Perhaps I am seeking to be somewhat prepared for it. But I do know that I wish for better, lighter dreams.

-SP