Grief and a Dream
Every now and again it rushes at me out of nowhere. I knew that I wasn't done with it. Or rather, that it wasn't done with me. Its just that its so damn sneaky and subtle that it will creep on me while I'm driving or, even more random, while I'm vacuuming or cleaning or zipping up a jacket.
It snakes its way up my spine and settles into the tear ducts. It rages out of nowhere and leaps out at me. It leaves me tense or other times a dishrag. It follows me through the halls of the hospital where I work and announces itself as I grab a Diet Coke from the vending machine.
It hangs itself around my neck and bears down with all its weight as I enter mindless digits into an Excel spreadsheet. It peeks up at me from behind the computer screen like an ignored toddler. Yet it finds a way, every single day of my life, to make itself heard and seen and felt.
Last night it came to me in a dream.
I was at my parents' house. I was there with my two sisters. We were watching a split screen tv (?) and there next to the television was an apparition. I saw it first. I pointed it out to my sisters and Lisa leapt to her feet.
He was around two or three years old, wearing a yellow sweatshirt and he reached out his hands to me. I walked over and scooped him up into my arms and cradled his head against my shoulder.
He just laid there in my arms as the tears came pouring out of my eyes, out of my heart and with all my being. I cried the way I wish I could in real life. A visceral and cleansing weeping that started from the most hidden depths of my soul and poured forth with a might that in real life would likely leave me shaking and scared.
I walked through my parents' house holding him. I looked over at my sisters in a silent question, "Do you want to hold him?"
"I can't Jenn. I already am. I never stopped." She was shaking her head no and if there were words to describe the look on her face, I've never read them. I simply can't find them.
"OK Kate. I'll just walk a bit then with him."
She nodded and sat back down in my father's chair.
I walked and walked until there were no more tears left. He lifted his head and looked at me in a sleepy smile. I patted his brown hair and kissed his cheek.
I woke up then and I felt as though I was still somehow carrying him.
It snakes its way up my spine and settles into the tear ducts. It rages out of nowhere and leaps out at me. It leaves me tense or other times a dishrag. It follows me through the halls of the hospital where I work and announces itself as I grab a Diet Coke from the vending machine.
It hangs itself around my neck and bears down with all its weight as I enter mindless digits into an Excel spreadsheet. It peeks up at me from behind the computer screen like an ignored toddler. Yet it finds a way, every single day of my life, to make itself heard and seen and felt.
Last night it came to me in a dream.
I was at my parents' house. I was there with my two sisters. We were watching a split screen tv (?) and there next to the television was an apparition. I saw it first. I pointed it out to my sisters and Lisa leapt to her feet.
He was around two or three years old, wearing a yellow sweatshirt and he reached out his hands to me. I walked over and scooped him up into my arms and cradled his head against my shoulder.
He just laid there in my arms as the tears came pouring out of my eyes, out of my heart and with all my being. I cried the way I wish I could in real life. A visceral and cleansing weeping that started from the most hidden depths of my soul and poured forth with a might that in real life would likely leave me shaking and scared.
I walked through my parents' house holding him. I looked over at my sisters in a silent question, "Do you want to hold him?"
"I can't Jenn. I already am. I never stopped." She was shaking her head no and if there were words to describe the look on her face, I've never read them. I simply can't find them.
"OK Kate. I'll just walk a bit then with him."
She nodded and sat back down in my father's chair.
I walked and walked until there were no more tears left. He lifted his head and looked at me in a sleepy smile. I patted his brown hair and kissed his cheek.
I woke up then and I felt as though I was still somehow carrying him.
ok first day back to work and u got me crying he did have a yellow sweatshirt with buildings on it
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