My first dream of
my husband returning from the dead came about a year ago. He walked into the
house with his best friend Spyros. Surprised I told him that he
was dead—actually both of them.
“Obviously not. I
am standing here.”
“But we had a
funeral, well memorial service. Two of them. One in Sacramento. One with
bagpipes.” I looked wildly at both of them. “You were cremated. Ashes.”
He smiled his wide
grin, “I don’t think so…where are my car keys.”
“You don’t have a
car.”
“Sure I do. A
truck. It’s out front. Come on honey. I’m late for work.”
“But you are dead.
I have a certificate from the government.”
“Well, you need to
go to Social Security and straighten that out.”
This is where I
wake up in a cold sweat. I don’t think anything is as scary as the Department
of Social Security except maybe DMV.
I didn’t tell
anyone this dream for a long time. Sounded a bit crazy. But the dreams came
more often and intense. I was relieved to see the man I love but felt the frustration
of ending this little life I’ve built. Mentally, I was forced to resurrect the
life that I had not a few years ago but decades ago. My husband wasn't ill and wheelchair-bound in the
dream. He’s a healthy twenty-something. I’m current me—only tired. After all, I
am not sleeping.
Mom said she had
similar dreams of her husband, Leo, walking back into her life. He wanted to
know why she remarried. Only she hadn’t. A friend said she dreamed her husband
was at his desk looking for the papers he left there. Another widow stated her
dearly departed looked in their closet for a particular shirt he wanted to
wear.
Seems widows go
through this revisiting, AKA haunting, as part of the process of grieving. I
checked websites on grieving. Many suggest, doing more fun things, travel,
charity work, and being with others to knock off the blues. I do all mentioned and more.
Time is supposed
to help. Okay while I’m waiting, my dreams are like a scene from Beetlejuice—I'm holding a line ticket of
9,998,383,750,000 and Social Security is now serving #2. I’m not sure I can
wait that long for things to get better.
Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.
