There were many nights as a new widow, I fell into an exhausted, restless sleep. In the first two years after my husband’s death, I had countless dreams in which he appeared. My dreaming seemed to revolve around day-to-day issues with my kids, money, fear of failure, and later, reentering the dating world. Often I would awake from a dream and try to decipher the meaning. I had been doing this for years, but having lost my husband, the dreams now held special significance.
If a dream felt particularly vivid, I would write it down. Sometimes bits and pieces would be recalled at a later point in the day, almost like a déjà vu moment. I sometimes experienced an “ah-ha” moment, and yet other times I wondered why I had crazy and confusing dreams. Then there were the comforting dreams. I speculated was it really my husband communicating with me, or was my subconscious responsible for the messages received?
Whatever the source, dreams wove all through my healing process. There were nights I went to bed feeling on the edge of despair, only to awaken and recall a dream offering hope and new meaning. On the days I felt frail in my grief, hopeful messages were held tightly to my heart. Perhaps I was too busy during the day to pay attention to my own fears, so during sleep, some of the answers were provided.
Some mornings I recalled only a snippet of a dream. I went through a period of incredible stress regarding one of my children’s relationship issues. In a dream during that period, when my son seemed to be floundering, I woke with these words in my head, “He rose to the top.” There was immediate comfort and I knew my son would be okay.
When career opportunities went nowhere, I fell into inertia, feeling as if I was suspended in limbo. I was afraid my life would never feel right. I had a dream one night that I stood naked before a blank wall. My husband entered the room, fully dressed with a knapsack on his back. In the dream he asked me was I happy to see him. I exclaimed with joy, jumped on him, and said of course I was. He laughed and hugged me.
In thinking about the dream later, I realized that I was ready to move forward with my life, but there was part of me still unhealed and hugging his memory to me. That dream made it clear to me that he was moving on to where he needed to be. I, too, had to move on, but not force anything or rush myself. I had a fresh life ahead of me and when the time was right, it would all fall into place. I also realized I couldn’t let the past keep me at a standstill, staring at a blank wall.
When my middle son went through a tough time, similarly “stuck” in place, I dreamed he and I were driving down a country road and his father followed us in his own vehicle. A big tree fell across the road behind us, blocking my husband’s vehicle. We got out and my husband stood there on the other side of the tree. He said to us, “Go ahead without me. I’ll meet you later.” I felt the message was for both my son and I, to keep going ahead with life.
My last significant dream of my husband came at a time when I knew I had to veer off a path I was taking. In the dream, he wasn’t visiting or stopping by to say hello. He told me he had to leave, there was something he had to do. I knew with absolute certainty that he was dead.
I awoke from this dream crying, knowing this would be our last communication. This occurred at approximately two and a half years after his passing. From that point on, I dreamed only rarely of him, and the dreams were almost static, as if he was there, but not participating in the dream. He had moved on.
At about three years after his passing, I dreamed he was coming back for a short time, and I didn’t want him to come back. I had made myself a new life and evolved into a totally different person. I knew also that if he came back, temporarily, it would throw my children into turmoil when he left again.
I felt guilty over my perceived message in this dream, that I didn’t want him to come back. I went back and forth with myself for months over its possible meaning to me. Ultimately, I realized the truth was quite simple. I truly believe he had his own “work” to complete on the other side, just as I have many things to accomplish in my life.
We are both where we’re supposed to be. http://www.ajourneywelltaken.com
Elaine Williams ©2008
Elaine Williams is a writer, mother of three and a widow of four years who lives in the scenic Catskill Mountains.
When life threw her some curves, she found herself a widow at forty-seven years of age. After some time and much contemplation, she knew that while her story was intensely personal, it needed to be shared with other women.
Elaine is a writer across various genres. She has been published in women’s fiction, but also enjoys writing children’s books, self-help, non-fiction and screenplays. Elaine is a business owner, actively volunteers in her community and also serves on local committees.