If I believed in visitations or ghosts or messages from beyond, I might be a lot more shaken up right now than I am. Even so, when I woke up from this particular dream this morning, I was pretty damn shaken up.
I dreamed I was in my office at work, and Tonia was there with me, and two other people were in there with us. Tonia and I were working on writing something. Suddenly someone was in my doorway and I looked up...and it was my brother, Casey.
In case you don't know me or follow this blog regularly, Casey passed away about four months ago.
He looked like he did when he was 12, but as big and tall as he was the last time I saw him. He was wearing one of my shirts...the blue-striped cotton with the short sleeves. He just stood there, letting me react to his presence.
I covered my face with my hands and began to shake violently, and sobbed into my hands. He came over and, still sitting, I grabbed him around his waist and hugged him tightly.
I woke up sobbing uncontrollably.
One of the cruelest things about grieving is that after a while you begin to forget, to let go. But every now and then, you'll remember suddenly and the grief comes crashing back when you're almost as vulnerable and unprepared as you were the first moment you heard about the death. I wonder if that ever stops.
1 comment:
I always feel strange comparing my grief for my dog to grief for a person, like I have to excuse the intensity of that love. That somehow the grief should be less .. because it was a dog. I know that you know it's the same.
That you lost your brother so suddenly and unexpectedly makes it all much worse. I believe you just have to feel it all, as hard as it is at times. All that sadness must come out or go somewhere... you can't keep it inside. And you must be prepared for grief to sneak up on you when you least expect it. Some memory, some smell or sight will wake it from it's sleeping place ... I heard Elizabeth Lesser recently speak about grief and she said
"We treat grief as something bad, something to avoid, something to fear. We expect to "get over" things quickly. Grief is a badge of how much you love, how much you care, and how passionate you are. You can get stuck in it, but in our culture, there is a lot of room to teach the wisdom and power of grief"
I know that my lingering sadness & grief for my dog Jake is a lot about my constant wonder and amazement at just how much I loved that dog. And of course also ... of just plain missing him.
Hugs from Nova Scotia, Susan, Winnie, Bleet, Oliver & Gus
Post a Comment