I dreamed of him last night...my late husband.
It has been 837 days since he died at the age of 38. It has been 837 days since I became a widow at the age of 37.
For over two years I've dreamed of him usually twice a week. There are 2 kinds of dreams with him. I either dream about the time when he's sick and dying or I dream that he somehow recovers but doesn't want me in his life anymore.
Either way I lose him.
Last night was the first time in over two years I dreamed that he somehow came back to life and still wanted to be with me. We held each other tight, we cried...I had so many questions...so many things to say that I've figured out since he died. He told me he loved me. We could not let go of each other. He said that for him it was like falling asleep and waking up again. I know that he suffered but somehow he didn't remember it.
There were so many tears shed from me and he just held me and told me over and over again that he loved me and he was here again.
I didn't want to wake up.
While I was asleep, I could still be with him.
I miss him so much. I wish I could believe that he hears me when I talk to him every night.
It felt so good to dream that he was there and that he still loved me but waking up to the reality of him dead was cruel. I guess it's less cruel than dreaming he doesn't want me anymore. There's a part of me that is very grateful that I finally dreamed of him cancer free and still loving me.
I still don't want anyone else.
There are no cookies that can fix this.