On occasion, when I wake up from a dream in which she looked ill, the feeling that accompanies the realization that she is no longer living is relief. It is a strange thing, feeling relieved that a loved one is no longer within reach. That you will never again feel the safety of their embrace or hear their voice call out your name.
In most dreams, she is vibrant and healthy and beautiful. She is at her prime. These are the dreams that fool with your sense of time. They're the ones you try to fall back into, but never can.
I'd like to think that she visits me. I know how that sounds, especially from someone who rejects most aspects of religion and other-worldliness. Maybe is her energy. Maybe it's self preservation and good old wishful thinking, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that when loved ones depart, they aren't forever gone. They visit.
|They Visit, acrylic on canvas, 18" x 18"|