Careful what you wish for

Do you talk to your dogs? I talk to my dogs all the time. Most of the time I’m just talking about my day, or the weather, or talking back to the tv. The girls just happen to be the only ones around to listen.

But at night, well that’s a different story. Every night before we go to sleep, we have a very important routine. I hug each of them, kiss them both and tell them I love them. I also tell them their daddy loves them even though he can’t be here, and they should sleep good and dream about him.

Last night, for whatever reason, I added “could you ask him to come visit me?”.

This song explains what it feels like to dream about someone you’ve lost. When John Mayer wrote it, he was writing about someone he couldn’t have, like a crush or an ex. It’s beautifully covered by my friend Tim, who has also experienced the same type of loss as me. Dreaming about your late spouse is sometimes welcome, often times difficult, and ultimately breaks your heart all over again. It’s like they were really here, like you could reach out and touch them. And then you wake up and they’re still gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

Fast forward to 2:00am this morning. From my bed I can almost see all the way into the living room. There was this blue light bouncing off the hallway walls. It was slow moving and very bright. Kind of like a small orb. Before Joe passed away, I would have never investigated anything. My freaky, scaredy-cat nature would have lovingly slugged him in the arm to wake him, and he would have begrudgingly got up to check things out. Since he’s been gone, all of that fear seems to be gone as well. So, into the dark I went. I hopped out of bed and headed down the hall, following the light as it continued to bounce around. It stopped as soon as I hit the living room. The girls thought I was crazy and headed back to bed. I looked outside, checked all the doors, convinced myself I was dreaming, and climbed back into bed as well. I fell asleep immediately.

Until I felt a push on the bottom of my foot!

Like someone was trying to wake me, it moved my whole body in the bed. Instinctively I thought Grace had crawled back under the covers. I looked around to find her on the ottoman fast asleep. Hope was lying on the pillow beside me, snoring quietly. The room was dark, but the glow from the streetlight outside illuminated around the curtains. But no one was there. I should have been scared. I should have jumped up and grabbed the shotgun. But instead, I just laid there, laughing out loud, at my ghost of a husband.

I haven’t dreamt about my Joe in a while. I’ve wanted to. I’d love for him to guide me, tell me what to do next, give me his blessing to move forward, maybe help me find love again. Something. Anything! Okay, well, maybe not anything.

I believe Joe has been absent from my dreams because he doesn’t want to keep breaking my heart. I also think the next time I ask; I’ll try to be more specific about what I wish for. True to form, Joe will probably never stop trying to freak me out. And I hope he never does.