There are nights when I have the most incredible dreams and rebel against waking up. Dreams where I am so happy that I wake up laughing. Dreams where all is right with the world because it is complete with the one person I thought I would never see again. Dreams where Sean is alive, we are talking and walking hand-in-hand. Just a dream.
I hate to admit it, but I forget what that feels like. Sometimes when I'm awake and busy with my solo life as widow, I forget what it was like to be in love and be loved. When I dream...I remember.
A friend who lost his wife told me that he has similar dreams. Most people I know who have lost someone have dreams of them visiting at some point and all say how vivid it feels, how they fight to stay immersed in the dream for just a little longer.
There are different theories about these types of dreams. Some say that it's their ghost checking in to see if all is well; others say that it is our subconscious needing to reconnect with that person. I don't really care about the what, why or how. All I know is that when I dream of Sean, when I feel all that love rush back, I fight waking up because I know I will lose it all again.
These dreams are not holding me back. They do not keep me stuck in the past. I am moving on, seizing the day, taking the leap and living as best as I can. But I hope I forever dream of Sean like I do now. He is like an old friend, a dear friend, who has great conversations with me in the night. We laugh like we used to laugh. We flirt like we used to flirt. And he is happy. In the dreams he is happy, but during that last year of his life he was so sad. I like dreaming of him as happy.
Opening my eyes and letting go is bittersweet, but it was only a dream. I can't stay asleep forever; I have a life to live.