It's 1 a.m. and here I sit again, wondering if I could fall asleep if I went to bed. And would it be the fitful, dreamless sleep I have had since Dave died? Will I ever dream of him again? I think I may have dreamed of him the other night but as much as I have struggled to remember the dream, nothing comes but the nagging feeling that I did dream of him but can't recall it. Is this my mind's way of trying to keep me from remembering because it is so painful to remember? Or are dreams the conduit between this world and the next. He has come to others in their dreams. Some of those dreams have been glorious and all were filled with meaning. Why does he not come to me? Am I so lost in my grief that he can't find his way through it and into my dreams? Or is he waiting there patiently before he shows himself because he knows that it will cause me more pain to see him right now? I read somewhere that grief can be so deep that one stops dreaming completely. If that is true, I am trying very, very hard to put aside some of this overwhelming feeling of despair in the hopes that I will be able to dream of my golden one again.
