2.

Grieving

You have gone. I can neither eat nor walk, but I can sleep.

Above you, where flowers grow, day after day endless rain comes down, washing the earth.

​

Your squeaky yawn from somewhere downstairs says you heard me, but where’s breakfast?

“I dreamed you had died…..and such a long sad dream!  It’s alright now, it’s gone. I’ll get up now, I’m coming….”


​Then I wake up.

The second dream is happy. 

I wake in the night and go to the top of the stairs. In the little hallway below me you are wagging, your whole body wriggling a greeting as you look up at me.

I know this isn’t normal…this isn’t dreaming…this isn’t physical….but what? My mind doesn’t understand. 
My legs won’t work as I try to go downstairs. I give up on them and start to glide. 
I raise my arms like a silly Halloween ghost. Grinning, wriggling, you join in the fun.

“Whoo-ooo! We’re both ghosts now!”

​Denial. A stage of grief, so I’m told. The dreams won’t let you go.

Dreams come. The first dream is cruel. I wake, hear you slip out of the bed, shake, yawn. I hear your footsteps going downstairs.
“Oh Mist! I had the most awful dream!”