Dream a Little Dream of We

So. I just posted last week that I do not often dream about Jamie. More to the point, I shared that if I do, I prefer the nightmares. Ghoulish as that may seem, my reasoning was that at least when I woke up from a bad dream in which my Mr. J was dead, it was no different than my reality — and easier to let go. The happy dreams? The ones in which he was still alive, we were happy and life was as it once was? Those I dreaded. To wake up from those was infinitely more painful, as I was reminded upon waking that nothing is the same. Reminded twofold, in fact, as I'm faced with the painful reality every morning when I awaken.

Until this past Saturday. I don't know why I was so drowsy. No drugs. No drink. No illness. No particular reason to be exhausted. Nonetheless, I found myself sleeping off and on all day long. I don't mean a snooze here and there. I mean a two-hour nap, a half-hour to an hour waking, then another two- or three-hour nap. Odder still? Every time I drifted off, I fell into REM sleep.

And Jamie was there. Waiting for me every time. I can't tell you what the plot of each — or any — dream was. Just that I was there, Jamie was there and it seemed blessedly normal. And I didn't feel sad when I awoke. I felt grateful.

Grateful because I'd not experienced this unconscious series of dates with my darling since his physical being left me. Grateful because his metaphysical self had chosen to spend the day with me in such a way that I could see, feel and smell him. And interact with him.

Don't misunderstand. I have felt his presence. But it's been ethereal. This? These Saturday afternoon drowsing dates with my deceased husband felt earthly and otherworldly at the same time. And I didn't awaken crying and with a tightening of my heart, a rapid pulse and short breaths.

No. I awoke — each time — calm, smiling and one time laughing.

And instead of self-pity that this is the only time this has happened, and — quite possibly — may be the only time it ever does, I will not mourn its absence.

Rather, I will rejoice in its happening. And if it happens again, I will praise it for the blessing it is.