Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Dreams and pens..

Night times are hard. The house is so quiet, so dark and still as I lie alone in bed trying to go to sleep. Before long, the inevitable tears flow, soaking my pillow. It's incredible how much I miss David's warm body next to mine. I still reach out to touch his pillow in the night.

"Please send me a dream," I entreat him, "so I know you are o.k. So I know you are not gone, not passed away, but passed within". This is an expression I heard from my on-line widows support group. Our loved ones have not passed away, they've passed within. I like that.

I did manage to fall asleep,and when I awoke in the early hours, a vague sense of having dreamed of David splashed across my brain. What was it? Ah, then I saw a picture of me in a boat. I don't know where I was going. I had a small child by the hand. Try as I would, I could not remember who this child was. I think it was a little boy. A grandchild? Nephew? One of my own boys? My husband as a child? Dreams are funny. Time does not run like it does here on earth. My children are grown now, but when I dream of them, often they are still toddlers, or teens. And I am the same age. A grandmother. So I don't know who this child was.

There was a stethoscope around my neck - David's. As most of you know, he had been a doctor in this life. A gentle and respected physician, who loved his work. Somebody on the boat addressed me as doctor. I was too weary to correct him (or her, I forget). Upon awakening, the message was clear. David was within. We are one.

It must seem a strange way to think, for someone who has not experienced the loss of a spouse, a partner, a lover. This "passing within" rather than "passing away." It's a deep feeling of love, centered in the heart. Both of my parents and my brother have passed away. I still feel a connection to them and dream about them from time to time, but there is a detachment, a feeling of letting them go. It's just not the same.

PEN STORY, PART II
Earlier in the month, I was back at the notary's office as there were more legalities to be sorted out. This time, I checked my purse at least 3 times to make sure I'd brought a good pen. I had. But just to be on the safe side, I reminded everyone right before the meeting began, to make sure they had their pens handy. The notary looked at me as if I had 5 heads. She had obviously forgotten our last meeting where nobody could find a pen (I was sure David had hidden them all). The financial advisor, who was sitting on my right side must have remembered, for he gave me a self-conscious smile.

The meeting began. A document was produced for me to sign. With a flourish I whipped out my pen, placed it on the paper and.....
nothing....but a scratch.
I could not believe it. David up to his tricks once again! If he couldn't hide the pens, then he'd just make sure mine didn't work! Ha! And I thought I'd been so smart, so prepared this time.

Good old Financial Advisor leaned forward and lent me his pen. It worked and I signed what was to become the first of quite a few documents that morning.

"You can keep it," he said with a smile.












21 comments:

mxtodis123 said...

I've been thinking about you. You are a very strong lady...one that I am proud to have met.
Mary

Karin said...

It sounds like you are moving forward, signing papers,learning to live knowing that the person you love will always live in your heart - moved within as you have explained - and still seeing him as a huge part of every day life. May you know that God loves you - always!

Celia said...

Dreams can be powerful messengers. I've had what I've come to think of as a parting dream about/with each person I ever lost. With Mom, it was immediate, my Dad not for years but it came, so like them both. I get the person passing within and that's where the dreams come from don't they? I think of you and David every time I find an odd pen and wondered how you were.

Grammy said...

Big hug. I think about u allot. I am glad to see u writing.

Cheryl said...

Greetings from Kansas City my friend. In 30 minutes we are off with Sherry and hubby for another days outings. Such fun.

I have kept you with me while I journey. I think of you often.

Dreams can be comforting.....Mr P's mother often dances with her late husband in her dreams.
She cherishes the times he holds her in his arms once again.
I understand wet pillows.....

The pen story made me smile.....I cannot hold a pen now that I don't think of you and David.

Sweet dreams my friend. I will be in touch when I return to the UK.

Thinking of you.....

kanak7 said...

Wendy...So glad to you've shared these thoughts. I think of you and your loss so often. And about the messages from The Other Side. Any sign, I feel, can be most comforting at a time like this.

Thank you for leaving a comment and for sharing the day you scattered David's ashes on my blog. We, my sis and I, often think about you. And every time I pick up a pen I think about you and David.

Take care~ Kanak

Nancy said...

Wishing you well.

Maggie May said...

Thanks for sharing. There will be good days as well as bad and the pen story made me smile.
Maggie X

Nuts in May

JDS said...

Your blog is indescribably poignant. I feel bad that such good writing was borne of grief, but I do feel compelled to let you know how good your writing is. I hope you are able to find peace in this world.

amelia said...

It's good to see you again. I check here all the time and this time I was pleasantly surprised!!

I love the way you write and I hope that in writing, you find some easing of your grief.

I'm sure you have a lot of bad days but I hope the good ones are not too far behind...

The Good Cook said...

Nancy from Life in the second half.

You and I are connected. I lost my beloved husband (suddenly, unexpectedly) on August 11th.

How can this be? I sleep on his side of the bed, I wear his wedding ring, I hold his robe next to my cheek every night. And wear it to pad barefoot through an empty house every morning.

Blessings to us. I love that you say "passed within" - yet I do not feel him with me yet. Early on, the first week or so, Jim visited me every night. Now, I haven't seen him for a while.

I miss him so.

The Good Cook said...

oops. Nancy from Life in the Second Half sent me over.

I'm so foggy these days.

Rose said...

"Passing within"--I like that image, Wendy, and I think it is certainly true for you. As I read this, I can see that David's spirit still fills you. I think of you often, Wendy, and hope that you are doing well. Keep writing--even if it's a private journal, not a blog--I think it really helps in the healing process.

Loved the story of the pens:)

Rose said...

Me again--I know you have much to do, Wendy, but when you have a couple of minutes, you might want to check my blog post from earlier this week, if only to look at some of the photos. I had a special visitor here last week--none other than Cheryl! Her visit was such a delight, and she was exactly as I imagined she would be, except taller:)

Q said...

Dear Wendy,
"Passing within" is a perfect way to know David. Your dream spoke of your deep connection. While Cheryl was here she told me about your post. I am always amazed by your story telling. I can almost hear your voice as I read. I feel as if I am sitting at your table and we are talking and sharing a cup of coffee. You have so much to share, so much to give. Thank you again for sharing your courage. Grief is the gift of love sometimes. It is the price we pay for loving so deeply. I think of you often. I hold you in my thoughts and prayers. I have known some grief. I often wear my grief like a sweater....I find comfort in knowing I have known love.
I have wondered what I would do if my hubby, my soulmate, died. I wonder how I would manage. Perhaps you and I would have kitchen table time and you would show the way. I feel less afraid thinking you would be near. Thank you for your friendship.
Namaste,
Sherry

Morning Glories in Round Rock said...

Passed within is a good expression, Wendy, for you will always hold David in your heart. I think you are right though, even though we have loved ones that gone from our sight in our heart, they don't feel the same. I wonder if it is because they have become busy in their new spirit life.

I can imagine David with a little grin watching as you plan your pen strategy, only to have him have the last laugh.

Hugs,
Jenny

JeanMac said...

Wendy, I think about you every day. Sending love.

femail doc said...

Yes, I like that passed within imagery a lot. I feel that so much with my mom (after all, whose DNA is this within me?) but extra special to feel it with a spouse. I was glad to find your new post after a long silence.

Hilary said...

I think of you often, Wendy. And I feel the warmth of your David playing tricks on you. From within.

KleinsteMotte said...

I find the way you express you feelings so easy to understand. You touch my spirit with your words. I'm glad that you are able to feel a bit connected with David. Your pen thing is well understood. My dad had a Pelikan fountain pen that I've clung to because I feel we are spiritually connected by it. To this day my preference for pens is a good fountain pen.Since they dry up easily I keep ink in my bag. I think believing in closeness can be a powerful positive force. Glad to learn that you feel a bit less grief. I hope each day will become brighter.

amourningmom said...

Passing within is such a wonderful way to think of it. I struggle with he died or he passed away. I know my loss is different (as they all are)- I am truly sorry for your loss. Take care.