At first I could not sleep, at all. Then I could sleep when I had to (awakened 9:30 Sunday morning, didn't sleep until after nine on Monday night). Sleeping so deeply that whatever dreams did come were buried, and could not be retrieved.
Thankful left yesterday, and last night, my first alone in several weeks, I asked for the gift of dreams. I think I was hoping Edwin would come and tell me it was not true, that he's really still with me, and that the dream was that he had died.
I dreamed, but that was not the dream. Instead he was in a hospital I've never seen; one sort of like a parking garage. And we, the keepers, all had handheld devices like remotes, and kept trying to change his bodily functions upwards as they were failing. As he continued to fail in the dream, I woke. I don't think I could have stood having it happen, again. . . .
3 comments:
Oh, puddle, what a dream...we all tried mightily with our "remotes" through the universe to bring Edwin's vital signs back. I'm so sorry we could not do it. I/we are in grief with you.
IndySteve
puddle, you will have a good dream about Edwin, where he tells you everything is fine and not to worry.
Wow, Steven. You nailed it. I couldn't put it into words until I read your response, but I recognized the metaphor in puddle's post.
Even though I knew it was ultimately out of our hands, I could never quite let go of the feeling that we should be able to concentrate "the force" and heal Edwin.
♥ puddle
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