Afraid to go to Sleep

Dear John,

 

Once again, we need to talk about your visits. Last night I had one of the worst nightmares of my life. I do believe there are better ways for you to get your points across to me.

 

I dreamed that you were sick and dying - of heart failure, like you really did - but you wouldn't let go of life. You were working so hard to stay alive - like you really did - and you were suffering so. I asked why you were fighting death so hard, and you said it was because you didn't want to leave me - just like you really did. I told you to think about the kind of life we'd have if it was taking that much struggle for you to stay alive and that, much as I wanted to have you here, it made me unhappy to see you suffer. So I told you to go ahead and leave, that I'd be okay, and that I'd be there with you before you knew it. Then I watched you die - just like you really did.

 

It was one of those dreams that followed me. An indication of how much it bothered me is that I didn't tell anybody about it all day. But tonight I realized that this dream may be healthy and important. It's still about your death, and that's an awful nightmare. But instead of fighting it, I was telling you to leave your suffering behind and move on. I've always known in my head that your death was the best thing for you; now it seems that I know that on a deeper level.

 

Was this awful nightmare a good thing? Maybe it was. I'm still learning this new world of widowhood so I don't really know. But it feels like a healthier dream than my many other nightmares. In any case, can we just do something fun tonight? No death, disease, or cataclysm involved? It's almost midnight and I'm a little afraid to go to sleep. Come and cuddle with me tonight.

 

Love you more than life,
Joan.