Last night I had a crazy dream. Crazy, and so realistic. Aren't those the most interesting kind? They are for me. I won't ever forget this dream. It goes in the box in my mind for memorable dreams, and it stays there. I'm going to write it out here, mostly so you can read it, and so that I can have it forever. Now don't go imagining this is some big wonderful sex dream. It is not. It was horrifying and so real. If you are like me, you have crazy dreams on the regular. I think I have had one of every kind of dream, or maybe a hundred of every kind. I am a vivid dreamer, and I dream with all of my senses. Maybe that is just because I am sensory aware. Who knows? Here you go.
I step into this dream at the funeral home. My husband RJ has died, and he has died young. I go through the motions of greeting everyone he has ever worked with, all of his extended family, and mine. My mind is somewhere else though as I look at my small children. Sunshine is around 9, and Charlie Brown is around 6. I'm wondering how I will survive without RJ both mentally, and physically. Heck, we have been together most of our lives. Met at 16/15, and started dating at 17/16, and then married when we were both 19. He can complete my sentences, and I can complete his thoughts. We move in tandem during all crisis that we experience, whether it is family illness or financial problems. I have never spent a night alone in a house, and though I won't be totally alone seeing as we have two children, I will be the only adult. My fears are all over the place, and I just want to get out of there. Go somewhere where I can think, and plan.
I glance over the room, and I see RJ sitting in the back pew. He is between the here and now, and the forever gone. He is hanging out at his own funeral and appears to be in shock. I mean he was too young to have a heart attack, and he was totally unprepared to leave this earth. My heart feels so much pain for him, and I really don't know why he is stuck here. At the moment I am thankful that he is. At least I can slowly get used to this huge loss in my life and have him there with me, kind of. I wonder if I am the only person who can see him, or hear him, and if so that will take some time to get used to. How much time do we have? Not much I suppose. I don't say a thing because suggesting that RJ is here at his own funeral might get me hauled off for a mental assessment at the hospital. I just bide my time until we can be alone to talk.
Finally the crowd thins, and the children are allowed to come up and say their goodbyes. Now in my real world, I know that neither of my children wants to be involved in open casket funerals, but this happened when they were small children. I am sure at some point when they grow up this actual event will be tossed at me like a knife. Piercing me with their words on how I have made so many mistakes in raising them alone, this by far being the worst. Right now though they cry gently and place their hands on their father's chest. I glance over to their father sitting on the back pew, and he bows his head. He shouldn't have to witness this, and my heart hurts for him all over again. These next few weeks are going to be painful in so many ways. There really are no words to explain to small children why their father is gone, and he won't be back.
We head out of the funeral home to our house. I have requested to be alone with the children at our home. I can't stand very much more of keeping up a front for their sakes, and I need to concentrate on the children. I need to talk to RJ about his presence, and the how and why of it all. I place the children in the back seat of our van and climb in to make that long drive home. Several miles seems like an eon when your heart is hurting, and your mind is all over the place. The children are quiet, and I glance to check on them using the rear view mirror. RJ is sitting beside me in the passenger seat, but I know full well that the conversation we need to have can't happen in this van. I turn on the radio and try to concentrate on the road.
Once home I give the children a snack in the kitchen while RJ hangs out in the living room waiting for me. His body language says he is impatient to talk to me, and I am anxious as well. So anxious in fact that I spill the milk everywhere, which just prolongs the agony. The children take their snacks into the living room and turn on the television. I tell them I am going to get into my pajamas, and then I will join them. We've never been kitchen eaters. We all prefer to just hang out wherever, and tonight is no different.
RJ follows me down the hall, and we go into the bedroom. I can hear the television blaring. My children always turn it up too loud, as if they are deaf or something. Usually irritated I am thankful for this small distraction for them. It will allow me to speak with RJ in hushed tones without them hearing us. I closed the door behind me and turned to him as he sits down on our bed. His shoulders are slumped, and I really am at a loss for words. He starts talking about the funeral, and I just bluntly asked him "Why do you think you are still here?" He doesn't know. He doesn't feel any different, and he doesn't know how to move from the here and now over to the forever gone. I wonder out loud if it is because he feels we still need him? Or perhaps he has a task to complete. I go to hug him and realize immediately I can't touch him. I can feel his presence, and see him, and vice versa. Not touching him will be so hard for me. I'm used to touching him at will. Well, I can accept that for now, and so can he. It is not a choice we get to make, like so many other choices made for us in the past week. I tell him I think I will be okay, and he reminds me of all the insurance coverage, and what needs to be paid, and when. So practical, even now.
We talk a few minutes, and I make my way back to the living room to be with the children. I sit down on the sofa and look around. It is Christmas time and the house is decorated, and presents are cascading under the tree. We spent way too much on the children once again, but that is okay especially this year. CB has fallen asleep close to the tree the lights illuminating his face, and Sunshine is almost asleep. They are tired from this week, and I can't blame them. I get up and go to the window to look out at the weather. It is supposed to snow. My body is tired, but my mind is a whirlwind. I see RJ sitting in his red truck with his hands on the steering wheel. He is lost in thought. I can't tell what his emotion is, but I am sure he is struggling. What now? What do we do, and how do we do it? How do I help him to move on?
Then I wake up.
Dammit all to hell. Now I will never know how this dream ends. Does he finally make it to the forever after? How do I go on without him? I have a million questions. Maybe dreams are supposed to go unanswered. I don't know. Wouldn't it be nice if we could start dreams where we left off at? Just like Netflix...Resume?
I think this would be a good start to a novel.
Thanks for reading, and be blessed.
peace :D shemelts