Skip to main content

The nightmarish dreams

  A little over a week ago, I asked J if he had morbid thoughts. He asked specifically what I meant, and I proceeded to tell him I have had thoughts about what I would do if he died before we got married. He wrinkled his nose and told me, "No." I asked him what he would do if I died before we got married and he said, "I would fall apart. I would be a mess. Inconsolable."
  I tried to think I would be the same if I lost him. Since Andy died, I have become quite the realist. Not to be confused with a pessimist. I see things as they are and how, at any moment, they could be. But I couldn't quite wrap my head around my reaction to losing him
  I spend a great deal of my sleeping time in vivid dreaming; however, I do believe, that two nights ago was the first time I have woken up from a truly terrifying dream...and cried. I didn't wake up crying. I woke up so very thankful it was a dream, caught my breath, and turned over pulling my covers over my head. My mind then rewound the emotions and images, and I couldn't help the onslaught of the ugly cry.
  And after I quieted down, 10 minutes later, I needed to speak to one person. Him. The one who my mind and dreams convinced me wasn't the man I knew. By the grace of God, when I texted...he was awake. He inquired why I was awake so early, and I told him I just needed to tell him I loved him. I just needed to know it was okay and he still loved me. I just needed to know that between last night, when I dropped him off, and this morning, when I woke up, he was still mine.
  I had experienced all the mind-altering, breath-stealing, mental-raging, and heart-breaking emotions of losing him. I had my answer. I would be a mess. And when he texted back and told me to go back to sleep and he would see me in a few hours, I couldn't help but be a little leery of my dreams. They were too unkind, and I no longer trusted them.
  Several hours later, he arrived. I couldn't stop touching him. I couldn't stop staring at him and thanking God the dream was just that...a dream. I rarely verbalize the way I feel about J to others. I rarely seem as though I am excited about the journey I am about to take with the one my heart craves most. I rarely externalize anything but fear or uncertainty when it comes to talking about my upcoming nuptials. But I am getting more ready...and I am so happy.
  I love him. I am in love with him. And I wish nothing more than to hold him and tell him he is my one for all the days of my life.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go.    And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought.  This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality.  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

A goodbye love letter to you...

  I sat across from my dad at lunch, yesterday, and asked him, "Do you know what tomorrow is?" He said, "Yeah. 1 year." And his eyes grew damp. "I'll never forget walking into that room..." He didn't continue. I didn't ask him to. "I'll never forget the police officer banging on my door at 1130 at night..." I didn't continue. He didn't ask me to.  "This journal was given to me several years ago by my children. I know they wanted me to write down my thoughts to get through the rough times I was going through at the time. I did not start this at that time. Why am I starting it now? Well, I only thought I had been through hell back then, but now I realize I didn't have any idea what heartache was until Aug 15, 2010 -"   This is the beginning of one of my mother's journals. A journal she started a little over a month after Andy died. And she wrote it--to him.  "Dear Mother - Today is the day before Mothe...
Post a Comment
Read more

Arithmetic of Purpose

   By nature, humans will, at one point in their life, ask the question, "For what purpose? Why am I here? What am I meant to do?" Okay, maybe they will ask themselves more than 1 question...but at least around the same theme. "Who am I, and why am I here?" It is built in our very DNA. Growing up, I didn't ask this often. I had a loving family who went with the current. Who I was and why I was here was bound up in my place in my family of 4. I was comfy. I was loved. I was secure. But alas...the question presented itself.   I first asked myself this question walking down the streets of Rome. I was alone, I was 21, and I was lost. I had just finished AmeriCorps and felt like I wanted something, but wasn't sure what that was. I had found my faith, at last, and realized that perhaps I wanted to be a bigger part of the Church collective. I felt meaning to my nothingness. I went home with direction. I graduated from college, finally, and started grad school to be...
Post a Comment
Read more