Learn from yesterday,
live for today,
hope for tomorrow.
~Anonymous
Andy and i have been off. this happens sometimes because he is thunder, i am rain. i am sunshine, he is stormy clouds. he is raging waves, i am moonlight. see, we go together, but are different. and sometimes our differences mesh perfectly and others, they push against each other, repelling.
in a text, he asked if we were okay. always checking, my man is; testing the waters to see if things are good between us. he is uncomfortable when the rift is too wide. i, on the other hand, tend to let it be, and it usually straightens itself out. i replied that we just weren’t on the same wavelength lately, and that’s hard for me. he texted back that it was hard for him too, but he wants to be, that he’s trying. i told him not to force it, it either is or isn’t. he said he wants me to feel joy. i said ditto.
our moods, our minds, they are on different things lately though. and it is not smooth when our opposing energies are in the same vacinity.
***
the other night i had this dream.
in it, Andy and i were in a different house (a brick one, like one of my childhood houses in Denver), with different children–two little ones in diapers. we were not rich, struggling sort of, but to us it didn’t really seem like it (that was just my personal observation of it when i woke up). as per usual in dreamland, some things were similar and some things were completely different. during the dream, which was one of those that seemed to last a while, he went to the doctor and found out he had brain cancer. it was so quick from the time we found out to the time he died, i am not sure if he actually died from the illness or from something else, but i knew in my dream it was only a week from diagnosis to gone.
after he passed though, he was somehow still there with me. i was the only one who could see him, and talk to him, it was just like he was still alive. we were in the livingroom (which now seemed like the livingroom of an apartment from college days) and he was helping me with the babies. he could touch things and do things just like normal. i do remember feeling an ache in my chest, very sad. i wasn’t really crying, but tears were behind my eyes and in my throat and an underlying sadness consumed me. and as we washed out the tiny dirty socks of our offspring together in our sink and changed their diapers and gave them baths, i let go.
i asked him, crying how am i supposed to do this all by myself now?
and he just looked at me.
finally, he said something like he would always be there, but we both knew that wasn’t true. we both knew he was fading slowly, slowly. fading away.
then, fear. i thought about our money, and knew that we had none, and i didn’t know where we would go because he was the only one working and we didn’t have any life insurance and there was nothing left. and that’s when he told me to sell his motorcyle. he said that he’s been wanting to for a while. i looked at him–a younger, more faded version of my Andy, and laughed. laughing through my tears. the thought was so funny; he would never, ever sell his motorcycle. if you knew him, you’d know that’s the very last thing he’d ever think of doing–it is his freedom, his fun, his toy, his joy. when we went out to the garage to see it, it was shiney black and gold, just like the motorcycle he crashed on a few years ago and totalled. he told me we could get a lot of money for it, and then he touched me tenderly and i woke up.
i woke up because at that moment, i knew it was a dream, and i pulled myself out and floated back into our room. the clock read 3:58. i reached out and touched Andy’s warm skin in the darkness. he reached back for me and asked if i was okay. kissed my hair and fell back asleep. i laid awake for a while after that, thinking of him and of our family and of Muffy just landing in a foreign land. sleep. unremembered sleep.
***
last evening in the kitchen making dinner, i told him i had dreampt that he died. he touched my shoulder and answered that he was sorry. i squinted my eyes and looked at him slyly and asked him why he thought it was a bad dream. he laughed and slapped me on the butt, like he always does. i winked at him.
later, he asked for more details and i gave him the above scenario. and then i told him that i knew the moment he said to sell the bike that he either really had to be dead or that it was a dream, and we both laughed.
then, he looked at me and said, You know what’s strange about that?
What? I answered.
unaffected, he said to me: The other day in the garage, when I was working on the motorcycle, I thought the very same thing. That if I had cancer or something, and was going to die, that I would write to the guys on my online bike board and tell them that you wouldn’t take less than three grand for it.
i couldn’t speak. i swallowed. hard.
then he said: And you thought we haven’t been on the same wave-length lately. Maybe we’re way more on the same vibe than you think if you are dreaming things that are in my head.
this is my life. even when we aren’t meshing, we are in each other’s heads. all the time. it is so strange. and beautiful. i smile.
***
i lay in bed thankful for little random things in my day. for the kids being home and happy. for the sun shining and pretty floaty clouds in the evening. for something interesting i read that made me think. for the soft breeze through the wind chimes. for my life. and then i say a silent prayer: please let it be random thoughts in his head, and just a silly dream. thank you.
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i have a husband who is my soulmate, three teenage daughters who are my joys, a baby girl who is my heart, one young son who is my sunshine and my youngest girl who is full of sparkle and the dickens and they all keep me on my toes.