1400+ days of mourning the loss of a man who changed my life and showed me how to love.
Time has not healed any wounds. I particularly hate that adage. I am sure it was written by someone who has never lost someone they truly loved.
Admittedly, time has given me space to begin to accept, because familiar with, adjust to, and deal with my loss.
But 1400+ days can seem like only 1 in an instant.
The last several days and weeks have gone well. I have been focused on being a better mother and a better person. I have worked to lose weight (11+ pounds since Jan. 2), and find time for myself and my own prayer life.
Yet when I crawled into bed last night, I suddenly felt so alone. More alone than I have felt in a long time. The quiet of my bedroom reminded me of the feelings of loneliness, and the darkness made me wonder about the night my mom died in that very same room. Needless to say, I was restless and had quite a time even getting to sleep.
So imagine my surprise when my alarm went off this morning. I found myself wanting to scream to keep my dream alive, and as I opened my eyes, I realized it was Brian who was there. As I stumbled to the kitchen counter and grabbed my cell phone, I burst into tears. I knew it was over, he wasn't really there. I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. I sqeezed my eyes shut, hoping to slip back into whatever it was I was dreaming about. I could see him standing across from me. He had just arrived at our wedding, and he was running towards me. I could feel the love and happiness I miss so much from when he was here with me. But the dream was gone, just like he is gone forever. I know our love lives on, and it creeps up and smacks me in the face every so often.
So my Monday started off rough. I felt somewhat pleasantly surprised by his presence in my dream. For those of you who have followed me, you know I never dream about him and have prayed and wished I would see him someday in my dreams. But I started my day full of sadness that it was so short-lived. It is amazing how a moment or a memory, a thought or a dream, can catapult you back to the starting line. It is baffling to me how a grief can seemingly be growing and changing, then in a split second, feel as raw as the moment he lay dying in my arms. I spent half the day trying to remember anything else about the dream, and some of the details are hazy, others too personal to share.
Maybe it was my subconscious, trying to help me find a way to get those bottled up emotions out. Maybe it was my way of being able to turn on the floodgates before the dam broke, allowing myself a few moments of grieving today. On this Valentine's Eve, I am trying so desperately to remember the moments we spent together celebrating, and not our last when he had a bad seizure and my whole life flashed before me. More often than not, the wonderful memories are starting to take over the sadness, but I can't say I'm a big fan of Valentine's Day. The funny thing is, I keep reading and hearing every year about how others hate it because they wish they had someone in their life. I just wish I had my Brian. I wonder if I will ever stop living in the past and longing for what I had. To be loved as Brian loved me is something I miss the most. God help me survive this Valentine's Day, because Heaven sure seems like a long ways away right now.