My dearest Teresa,
I had the most beautiful and real dream of you that I’ve had since you’ve been gone.
In the dream, Carol and I were in the house… the hallway upstairs, enjoying life and doing chores together. And suddenly you just appeared there with us. And we all greeted each other with excitement and joy.
In the next scene you and I are alone in bed together all tangled up… just visiting. It wasn’t sexual at all… just talking… about what, I don’t remember. And it was all very familiar.
Suddenly we were downstairs in the kitchen and there’s a man at the table. And it looks like you’re starting to explain to him something about me. I interrupted rudely and said: “I’m not just another man… I’m her husband!” And the other man was very kind, had a kind face, but he looked a bit hurt. Then he left quietly out the open front door. (Since I awoke from the dream; I’ve felt ashamed and wonder if it might have been Jesus that I treated that way.)
The next thing I know, you and I were slowly dancing in the kitchen. Holding each other like we used to. Then I asked: “How can you be here? We had your funeral!” You asked me how the funeral was, and seemed pleased when I explained that it was amazing. The church was so packed, we could not get everyone in the building.
Then I pushed you gently back, enough to raise my arm and point to your ashes above the refrigerator. Again I said: “How can you be here?” And as I was pointing, you reached up and pulled my arm gently down, and looked up in that direction with a perplexed look on your face.
Abruptly I woke up in my bed with a deep sense of grief and loss. Wanting to get up and run downstairs and find you anew.
But I was alone again, yet with a sharper memory of what your face feels like. With time passing by, I was having trouble remembering…
I miss you…
This work by dschwietert is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.