I had a dream about Mike last week. I hear some widowed people bemoan the fact that they never dream of their loved one…but these dreams are not always happy. I wish we could all visit with them in all our dreams every night, dancing happily through the fields of neverwhere together, able to talk to them and laugh with them. But not all dreams are like that. In fact I have yet to have one even remotely like that.
Mike’s girls and I did have a few profound experiences with him in our dreams after he died. That is for sure, and I am forever grateful for what we all believe were a last opportunity to really and truly communicate with him.
But after that, any dream I’ve had has been frustrating. Disappointing. Sad – the kind of sad that makes your heart ache all over again.
In this dream I knew he had gone far away beyond any means of communication, and that in fact I had been forbidden to try and talk to him. I knew he had gone away forever – but for some reason in this dream there was no thought of death. He was just gone. He had left and was never coming back, and I couldn’t talk to him again.
Well, I decided, chuck it, I’m going to call him anyway. Actually my first thought was to try and text him, but in that moment decided – no, I’m just going to dial his number. Then was the agonizing ordeal of finding a workable phone. I couldn’t find my phone anywhere, and when I finally did find it, the numbers were broken and kept dialing the wrong ones. Finally finally finally I got it to dial his number – which I remembered, correctly, in my dream, as a matter of fact. (Like I will ever forget his phone number for the rest of my life anyway.)
When he picked up on the other end I was elated. He started to cry from happiness that I had called him. But that was it. I don’t remember any words being said beyond that. I just remember thinking see, he isn’t gone forever, someone lied to me, I can call him, and he still loves me.
When I finally woke up that morning my heart felt like lead. I dragged my grief around with me heavier than I have in a long time. He was so close – and yet, so far, far, far away. Part of me wishes I’d not dreamt that at all. That I had just had a dreamless sleep and woken up to the day’s activities without the heaviness. Without that confusing, frustrating convoluted experience my mind dumped on me. Without that feeling that he is only a phone call away – however difficult that call may be – when he is not. He is definitely not on the end of any phone and never will be again.