I had a dream about Rich last Saturday night. I was relieved because I haven't had one in quite a while. I think my mind is trying to give me some sort of reprieve while I sleep. I wish I would have written it down because it was so vivid at the time, but now it is fading.
In the dream - the children and I were at a family party. It was both my family and Rich's. I was walking around feeling really self conscious and uncomfortable. I was searching for Rich - even though I knew he wasn't there. I didn't want anyone to talk to me or ask me how I'm doing - because I was half tempted to tell people how I am actually doing. (I tell myself to just say, "I'm fine".)
In the dream, I saw Rich standing alone in a corner. He didn't have any clothes on and it didn't even matter - it didn't even seem unusual. I grabbed Ethan and ran over to him. His arms were extended to take the baby. He hugged him and held him so tight. He smelled him and kissed him and cried and breathed him in. He looked up at me and said, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I kept trying to take a photograph of them, but the camera wouldn't work. I was so upset and frustrated because I knew it was the only opportunity I would have for Ethan to have a picture of himself with his dad. We looked at each other with tears in our eyes. I knew I couldn't have a picture and we both knew he couldn't stay. He handed Ethan back to me. He touched my face and said, "You can do this." Before I could scream, "We were supposed to do this together!" I woke up to Ethan's cries. I had a sweet sense of relief and peace. I was so happy to talk to him. I got our son a bottle and pulled him into our bed. I kissed him and held him close. I whispered to him that his daddy loves him and I promised him I'd be strong.
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and my chest is compressed with fear and anxiety. It's horrifying. I have yet to figure out how to alleviate it. It messes up my whole day. I end up sleeping and crying all day. I wish I would dream about him more often. I've heard that when a dream is really vivid, it's not just a dream, but a visit. I've also heard that if you haven't accepted a passing then that person has a more difficult time contacting you. I need him to contact me. I need to know he sees our children. I want to believe he can help me make the right decisions and guide me, but I can not accept his death. It's unacceptable. "Hey, God, I have a huge freakin' complaint. You made a mistake! I want him back! You can't have him - he is mine! Please, fix this..."
Madi, Ethan and I were leaving the daycare the other day and Madi asked, "Why is my daddy in heaven?" I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. I told her what I always tell her. "Daddy got sick. The doctors couldn't help him. He had to go to heaven to feel better. He would be with us if he could. He loves us very much, but he has to stay in heaven. He can see us and we can talk to him when ever we want." She looked up at the sky and yelled, "I love you daddy!"
I want who ever made the decision to take him to spend a few minutes with Madison. I want them to hold Ethan and wipe away his tears. I want them to stand in front of me and explain why.
I dare them to stand in front of me...