Some Days You Don't Want to Wake Up

Some days are just unpleasant. Today is no exception. I woke up feeling terrible: groggy, sluggish, sleepless. It was a rough night. And yet I dreamed pleasant dreams. A dark-haired man walked along the road with me and then hugged me. We sat down in the grass and he kissed me. I didn't recognize him but he felt familiar.

True story. 

I've missed him for several days now. I should have realized what time of year it is but totally forgot in the craziness of my ruptured disc, my pain, and the surgery. I've been too busy trying to recover and juggle NaNoWriMo to remember it is that time of year.

Yesterday I missed him and said, "I just wish I could talk to him and feel him hug me and kiss me." And I dreamed. I don't feel better for it. 

Writing about it today seems the most logical solution to all of it. I am, of course, a writer. 

As Mike left the house he said, "Dad always told me "You've got more time than money, son". It was like a blow to my heart. I miss him so much again. I nearly choked on my supper. It suddenly tasted like bitterweed.

And then, searching for something to work on I ran across something I started several years ago and forgot because it was too painful to write at that point. 

My husband died, suddenly, on a cold, dark night wrapped in ice, on a dead-end road, in our bed. I thought, before that night, that my life was planned and despite the bumps in the road, the detours, and derailments, it was going according to plan. But you can’t plan for life. There is no road map, no compass, no GPS. You just start walking, telling yourself that where you’re going is just up ahead and all you have to do is keep moving and you’ll get there. It isn’t true.

I didn't read any further. I know how the story ends. I'm not ready to re-live it. I'd like to wake up and find him there, next to me. Not drifting away on some insubstantial dream that leaves me feeling cheated. I missed him more after than before.

So...the festive season begins with a subliminal greeting card from Death, to remind me how very cruel and powerful he is. It seems I'm to get one every year.