| posted in: life 

Throughout my life I’ve never been able to remember my dreams. On rare occasion I’ll wake up and know that I’ve been dreaming, but the images in my head are fleeting and disappear almost immediately. It has never really bothered me, until now.

Before the reason for my upset will make sense I need to explain about the week Michele’s father was killed. On a Thursday evening, late in October we were sitting in our living room with the television on; Michele was in the easy chair and I was at my desk working on the computer. I was suddenly aware that someone had walked between me and the TV, however when I looked up no one was there. Knowing that Michele sometimes saw people I asked her if anyone was in the room with us. She looked past me and said, “Yes. There’s a man in uniform standing behind you.” At the time neither of us knew that her father had been in an accident that day, and was currently in a coma on life support in Knoxville. It would be two more days before we learned he was even in the hospital. Later we understood that the image I had seen move across the room, and the man in uniform she saw, was her father come to say goodbye.

Until that event I wasn’t 100% sure that spirits, or whatever, moved among us. I’m an empirical kind of guy and there just wasn’t any real evidence. Seeing it for myself finally convinced me. Since Michele’s death I have often wondered if her spirit has visited me. On several occasions her side of the bed has been turned down when I’ve come home. I know that Taz (one of the cats) is doing this when she burrows under the covers to sleep. But it is only ever on Michele’s side of the bed, and it is usually done very neatly - especially for a cat. I am certain that Michele is standing there egging Taz on so as to let me know she is okay.

All of this leads up to my dream this morning. I dreamed that I was talking to Michele, and her to me. When I awoke whatever we talked about was gone in an instant. In fact at the time I didn’t realize I’d had a dream about her. It was only later when I discovered that I felt like I did after talking to Michele. Maybe all of this is conjecture and projection on the part of my grief. Maybe it truly is real. Either way, I felt a tiny bit better today for having talked to Michele in my dreams last night.

Sweet dreams indeed.

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Mark H. Nichols

I am a husband, cellist, code prole, nerd, technologist, and all around good guy living and working in fly-over country. You should follow me on Mastodon.