Last night I dreamt that my husband died. And clearly, painfully, I regretted not saying goodbye.
We’d ended the dream night with tense words and when I woke the next morning, he’d passed away. My mom came to the house to help with the kids. Thank God, because I was useless and mute, and couldn’t hold the pain.
I missed him something fierce and my harsh words from the night before rose up to bite me again and again.
Awful.
Truly.
My relief upon waking saturated me.
I knew I’d been given a gift.
Awareness.
A realization that perhaps I’ve made little things the big things and the big things too little.
Living perhaps a bit unconsciously.
Not paying attention.
Lost in black and white.
Last night, TECHNICOLOR!
Dreams do that, you know.
My BFF’s husband has 3 to 6 weeks left to live. He’s 46; their kids are 18 and 13. I have never been sadder and at the same time so grateful.
Wow. “Perhaps I’ve made little things the big things and the big things too little.” Whoosh.
That’s something to go on the fridge, or the mirror, or just locked into my stubborn head.
isn’t that dream just the most amazing gift? it’s your do over. and this post just gave me mine. so thanks.
um yeah okay. you just made me tear up. and how long was that post? jeezus.
my husband often tells me “how much i’d miss him if he were gone…” and i’m like, yeah, whatever, stfu.
BTW, i’ve had some bad dreams about something awful happening to my children, but never about anything awful happening to their father. and i think that’s a good thing… based on what i just read.
and yes, let’s be more aware of what is really important in our day-to-day lives. the PEOPLE. not the minutae. (sp?)
These dreams are the worst. And the best.