I dozed off on the couch and dreamed that the phone rang and I picked it up. David was on the other end and said hello and asked how I was. I told him I was fine, and he said he wanted to tell me something. Before he told me what he wanted to, I interrupted and told him that it was so good to hear his voice and that I missed him so much since he had died. There was silence on the other end of the phone. I knew that David had not expected that I would know that I was dreaming. I knew I had scared him. Knowing you are dreaming in a dream is lucid dreaming and I have done it since I was a kid. I know I told him about it and I know he never believed that I really did it.
And then I woke up. I remembered that the connection was not good. David's voice was a bit fuzzy. I hope it is better next time.
Can I say that I believe that it was him? Just simple belief.
And I carried around the thought all day that it would be so hard to have a good conversation with David today. I wanted to tell him I wished that he had not died, and then how Julia and Cheshire were. And how I could make it on my own. And how I wished I didn't have to. And then I thought about all the mundane things we were accustomed to talking about -- daily doings -- and although those things were the fabric of our lives together, I was very much aware that he would no longer care about mowing the lawn or the theater's new season or my work plans. It made me overwhelming sad but also gave me a glimpse into eternity. I have written this before, but if it was not for such devastating loss, this journey after David's death has been full of such exciting discoveries and such awe.
And then, I went outside and worked in the garden for the rest of the day.