I know it was just a dream. I know it was ridiculous. I know that Dave was NEVER like that. But- I'm still having a hard time getting past the mad feeling.
The whole dream could be a sign that I've been dithering over whether to keep Dave's phone line going or not. I want to save the outgoing message but I haven't actually taken the time to do so. Until the message is saved off of there- I'm willing to keep paying for the phone line- because when I need to I can hear my husband's voice. I can even leave him a message if I want to.
We're in the middle of getting ready for fair. The sheep weigh in next Tuesday and our club scrapbook and record books need to go in on Monday when we decorate stalls. When I'm busy and overwhelmed I tend to project my feelings about one issue onto another issue (or person, or event). Before Dave died I was much better at seeing my own motivation for actions. I was also better at recognizing emotions and knowing why I felt the way I did.
This evening I'm wondering if maybe I'm a little mad at Dave for leaving- and leaving me with all the work and all the kids to raise. I know he didn't have a choice, and had he been offered a choice- he would have done almost anything to stay (except trading his life for one of ours). I still love the man like crazy. He's been dead for almost two years and I still find myself getting irritated with him on occasion. I don't want to be mad at him, especially when there's nothing he can do to make it better. There's no action anyone can take to change the outcome.
This is my life. I love it. Come hell or high water... this is mine. My family. My home. My choices. My decisions. My life. It wasn't all that long ago that it was OUR life. Even though it seems like it's been a long time- it hasn't been all that long. I miss OUR life. I miss having someone to share the joys and the responsibilities and someone to take care of (but not like a parent caring for a child). I miss my honey. He was also MINE. Apparently I don't do well letting go of my stuff or my people.
Here's hoping that tonight brings sweeter dreams...
1 comment:
I dreamed angry dreams of my dad for most of the first decade. I'd be yelling and angry wake up mad and confused. I don't have them anymore. But it was nice to see him ...
Life is hard and I'm sorry things are stressful and all on your shoulders. You could swear at the llama. That's what I recommend.
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