Dream a Little Dream of Me

I dreamed about Brian on Friday night, though it was so real that I might have been awake when I saw him; I just don't know. I'll call it a dream, because I was asleep immediately before it happened. In my dream:

I was laying in bed -- our bed, where I actually was sleeping -- and woke up with the sense that Brian was going to be coming into the bedroom. In my dream, I knew it didn’t make sense because he was dead, but I was still hopeful and just had the feeling it was him around the corner. I so badly WANTED to see him; I wasn’t afraid at all. And sure enough, I was right -- he was in the hallway and came into the bedroom! He walked partway into the room, past the dresser, and paused and turned his face to look at me. Shocked and thrilled to see him, I shouted, “Brian!” and he smiled at me. I have never been so happy to see his smile. He was wearing a jeans and sweater -- that orange striped sweater I loved so much on him -- and sporting his glasses. His smile was so big, so genuine, and he had that twinkle in his eye that always made me smile. I could see the happiness and love he had for me in his eyes. It was the look he would give me when we'd share an inside joke or when we'd experience something great together. It was just like he was his regular, human self. There he was, coming into the room like normal, like he might do if he'd been out that night and I was in bed waiting for him. That's exactly how it felt, too -- like I'd been in bed, waiting for him to come in. Though I understood in the dream that he was dead and that this didn't mean he was alive again, it still felt completely natural and normal that he'd be coming into the room to spend the night.

Once he turned and smiled at me, I felt a wave of excitement, love, happiness, and peace. Nothing else happened in the dream, but nothing else was needed. Nothing else could have enhanced his visit. I truly feel he visited -- whether I was dreaming or awake -- to tell me that he was just fine, he was happy, and also that he's with me and looking after me. I can't even describe how amazing it was to see him and to feel the love he brought into the room with him. Somehow, he radiated or expressed things to me that go beyond words. I could just feel the love he was giving me, I could just know what he was there to tell me, without us speaking.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling rested and refreshed, though without remembering this experience right away. Somehow, I suddenly remembered what had happened around noon on Saturday. I immediately started crying tears of joy and relief -- finally, I'd had a visit from Brian that was clear, wonderful, and that didn't cause any confusion or mixed emotions in the morning! It was exactly what I've wanted, though I probably just wasn't ready before now. In fact, I know that when I sensed his presence in the hallway, I remember thinking that I so badly wanted him to come into the room, even though I knew he couldn't stay -- I knew it was just a brief visit, and I understood in my dream that he is dead and that this wouldn't change that -- but I still fully and unabashedly wanted to see him! I've actually had the sense that he might be visiting in dreams before, but that sense is usually accompanied by some apprehension. Not that I think Brian would hurt me or anything, but there has still been a tense feeling associated with this -- what if it doesn't look like him? What if I beg him to stay and he can't? Will I wake up sad? Can I handle the intensity of the experience? For some reason, I didn't have those fears surging through my subconscious this time. I was just so open to the experience, finally, and I think that's why he was finally able to come see me. I remember realizing this in my dream -- knowing that I finally felt 100% ready -- and I think it made all the difference.

Once I remembered the experience, I went to get my diary to write about it. I wasn't sure I wanted to blog about it -- I thought I'd start with a handwritten entry in my private journal, which is still in a tote from my move back from Austin. Kicking myself for not leaving my journal unpacked during the move, I began to look for it. I was pulled to a certain tote, to a certain depth, and found …the unfinished thank-you cards! I had to laugh -- Brian was telling me I needed to finish those. Sheepish to be caught, I apologized to him and acknowledged he was right -- it's time for me to get back to those!

Since Brian wasn't going to show me where my journal was, I went to get my laptop instead so I could write about my dream. The laptop was on my bed and I noticed the bathroom light was on. I didn’t remember leaving it on. Weird. I went to turn it off and noticed that one of the three bulbs was burned out. That’s funny, I didn't notice a bulb burning out when I turned the light on. I think it was Brian playing a joke on me! The funny thing is, the day before I had replaced all the burnt-out light bulbs in the house, and even one on his car. Now I've got another to replace!

I questioned whether I should share this and I mulled it over all weekend, not sharing my experience with anybody. Ultimately, though, I feel like I've opened myself up and shared so much on this blog that those reading deserve to hear about it and I think I can convey my experience and tell the story much more accurately and fully by writing about it.

Now that this has happened, I don't know whether Brian will keep visiting (now that I'm truly receptive to it) or whether he's done now that he got his message across. Either way, I am truly content.