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widow dreams

Dreaming Like a Rembrandt Not Like a Soap Opera Widow Repair

Typical Dreams of a Widow

May 31, 2007 I dreamed last night that Jason reappeared. Once again I was around a lot of people, and I was asking everyone if he was really there. I wanted confirmation.

When the “guests” at the “party” told me that Jason is here, I smiled and thought, So this isn’t a dream. He really has come back from the dead. I thought that God made an exception for me because He knew how much I miss Jason.

I kept passing him, and he wouldn’t really acknowledge me. That was okay, because I told myself that the next time I saw him, I will tell him that we need to talk. I was sure that would get his full attention. I could tell him how much I love him, and we could get back to our lives.

He had been gone for so long! I would ask what it was like on the other side. He must know, and why wasn’t he talking about it? Surely everyone here would want to know!

Maybe it’s a secret. After all, the Bible doesn’t mention Lazarus talking about the afterlife, and he was there for a few days before returning to earth.

That’s about it. I wasn’t able to talk to Jason, only muse about it. That’s one of the typical dreams of a widow I guess.

I’ve found other widows like me who have dreams about their late husbands:

Widow Chick

Widows Don’t Wear Black

Widow’s Voice

Dreaming like a Rembrandt, Not Like a Soap Opera

June 24, 2007 Most of my dreams are a ridiculous string of events, but last night I got to hug Jason.

I looked up into his gentle expression. His smile reached his eyes, and he was looking at me fondly.

There was a shadowy aura around him- it was like the soft, dim lighting you would see in a Rembrandt painting, and not like the anxious, dramatic lighting surrounding the actors on a soap opera.

We hugged each other close again, and I felt so content when I woke up.

Have you dreamed about lost loved ones?

I don’t believe that spirits are allowed to come to people in their dreams, not in modern times anyway. But “Jason” did give me a big ‘ol warning in one particular a dream. I’ll write about that for next week.



Heaven is the place you told me you would not go Widow Repair

I Just Could Not Go Through That Again

January 6, 2007

I dreamed that I was at the Santee House. Jason was there, wearing his red striped shirt.

Well, Jason was back, and he was not married to me, so he was single. He was free to date anyone, and I was in love, but too afraid to tell him.

He asked me if I wanted to go outside with him and watch the kids jump on the trampoline, and I said that I couldn’t because I was holding Caleb.

He was about to go, but I put out my hand and stopped him. I told him that I really love him, and we should be together now that we have the chance. He smiled and asked if I really meant that.

I told him yes, and we hugged and kissed so warmly and so affectionately. Then we decided that we would get married again, and I started to worry.

He was standing beside me and holding my hand, and I started to say that he could not kill himself again, because I just could not go through that again.

I realized that I could never be certain that he would be there from one day to the next, but I would marry him anyway, because I wanted to be with him so badly. Maybe this time would be different.

You Slipped Past a Barrier I Cannot Breach

March 3, 2007

My heart is so cold when it comes to love. I hear a beautiful song about marriage, and I long to “be consumed” with another person, but I shudder to think of anyone putting so much faith and trust in anyone else.

They can be gone in an instant, and comparing them in life and death gives you the feeling that they are betraying you. Jason and I joked about death and talked about it once in a while, and I remember him clearly telling me that he wasn’t going anywhere.

I want to snatch him by the shoulders and say,

See, you are gone from me. I can’t touch you. I can’t tell you about work today. You were here today, and you are gone now. I can’t even tell you how disappointed I am after I gave you my devoted love, and now there is no one to understand.

Your body is under the ground. It’s marked by a plaque. I used to drive past this God-forsaken cemetery and go to the house down the road and collapse in your arms. But now I drive past the empty shell of your body.

Remember when we talked about your grandmother dying? Now it’s like you betrayed me, and you slipped past a barrier I cannot breach. I want to get out of this life and follow you to heaven.

Heaven is where I can tell you everything. Heaven is the place that you told me you would not go, at least not yet.

I Would Inevitably Lose Him Again

March 5, 2007

It has been almost a year since Jason left.

My last dream had no picture substance that I can remember, but it had all the feelings, the same theme as all the previous ones.

I had Jason, and I thought, Is this real? Is he really here this time, or is this another dream? And I quickly brushed the questions away.

It was real, and I dismissed all the pain of this past year without even one worry, without any desperate feeling that I needed to hold him before I would inevitably lose him again.

You could translate the dream in countless ways, but I think that the best interpretation is to hope that Heaven will be like that when I can be with him again.