Last night I had a very vivid dream about George. I was being chased, but he came to my side and we walked hand in hand. He was clean shaved, wearing cargo shorts and a polo T-shirt. He looked so healthy and happy. Of course seeing him in my dreams, I was shocked because I know he’s dead. Every time he’s in a dream I mention he’s dead. He must think I’m a serious buzz kill. Well we held hands and I was happy until the person chasing me in my dream came and then George disappeared and I woke up.
Today I turned the lights on, on the turf field and when I shut the door to the light room I heard a cling. I looked down on the pavement and saw his wedding ring. It fell off my necklace. I put it back on, but I was so surprised it fell. It was the first time that’s happened. And I started thinking about if it was a sign. Then practice started and I refocused and swallowed my grief.
Usually in the evenings I hang with friends and it’s a nice distraction. Tonight I didn’t and I’m happy I didn’t. I needed to grieve. I started thinking about how I’m relatively happy and how I love my lacrosse team and the support I get from the other coaches. But then I couldn’t stop thinking how much more happy I would be if George was around. But he’s not and I shouldn’t think that way cause nothing will change it. But if he were still alive I wouldn’t be doing some of the things that I’m doing now that make me happy. It’s a horrible balance but what else is there to do? Either way, I miss having him at night, I miss his love, and I wish I would stop bringing up how he’s dead every time he shows up in a dream. Damn unconscious mind.