Thursday, December 9, 2010

Playing Cello in My Dreams

It feels like there should be an end to such brutality- but there's not.

I am so jealous of everyone on Facebook who posts about a cold that they can't shake, or a bad commute into work, their favorite sports team losing, or their kids tiring them out.  Sure, no one posts about heavy topics on there really- so one of those same people might be going through some really difficult stuff.  I don't know that they aren't.  But I'm still jealous when I read those.  This is self-pity talking I think and I have to watch out.  But the"why me" question I thought I wouldn't ask a few months ago, appears in my head a lot more often now.

I notice too that friends who invite me to spend time with them, do so when their husbands are away or working.  I remember that- wanting to spend time with your husband if he's there.  And then if he was out or away, that was the perfect time to catch up with girlfriends.

I can remember when we were first dating, I just didn't really want to be with my girl friends anymore.  And if I was, I was counting down the hours until I could be with you again.  Right from the beginning, you were my absolute favorite person to be with Dan.

And I can remember sitting around a conference room at Random House before a meeting and people discussing their favorite actors.  My boss at the time asked me who I liked, and I, 24 years old, replied quite matter of factly, "Oh, I think my boyfriend's the cutest guy in the world."  And I meant it.  I felt so lucky to be yours.

I can't believe you're not coming back.  I can't get it through my head.  It feels like I'm waiting to see you still in the back of my mind.  I keep pushing through...pushing...

Today while she was trying to nap, though unsuccessfully in the end, I heard Audrey say, "I wish you'd come back from your trip Appa."   and then "Are you in heaven with God?"

I want to fix things for her- heal her heart...make it better- the way you do as a mother.  "Mommy stick it togetha with scotch tape!" she often says if something breaks or rips.

Last night you were in my dream- as I imagine you are most nights- nothing supernatural- just a dream with you in it.  I acted very aloof in the dream, as if I didn't want you to think I had been worried and devastated, but your death wasn't even mentioned.  You came in our bedroom and then I asked you to play the cello- it hasn't been played in over five months now and I know it's supposed to be played to stay in good condition so this is probably on my mind.

In the dream I saw you playing so clearly.  I saw your fingers...and I heard your music.  And it was absolutely stirring.  Maybe I am too hasty to say it was nothing supernatural.  I heard you playing cello in my sleep.

Last week I remember at least two friends quoting the same verse to me- the one in the Bible where the guy goes, "I believe...help my unbelief."

This week I do not believe.

It is despair, horror, pure sorrow.

Help my unbelief.

No comments:

Post a Comment