Visitation

Mike visited me in my dreams last night. Around 3:00 a.m. I was startled awake by a noise that sounded like it came from the living room, a sound like something being dropped or tripped over. When Mike was here, I’d have gotten up to investigate. Alone, I huddled under the blankets in fear of an intruder, thankful that my cell phone was within reach if I needed to call 911. I listened intently, but there were no further sounds except the steady hum of my fan, and I dozed off again.

I woke again what seemed like a short time later, heart racing with fear. The darkness in the bedroom seemed to have a heavy, blurry quality like being underwater. I reached for the lamp on my nightstand, but flicking the switch several times failed to turn on the light. I felt groggy, as if I’d been drugged. Then I had an incredibly strong, vivid sensation that someone or something was trying to pull me out of bed, though I couldn’t see anything. My whole body was tingling. I took a deep breath and said firmly, “Let go of me!”

Then I heard a low murmur of sound, like a TV left on, that seemed to be coming from the living room. I got up to investigate. Following the voices into the other bedroom, I saw Mike and Sean, his 13-year-old son, watching TV and talking. Sean glanced up and casually said, “Hey Lira.”

I walked over to Mike and put my arms around his shoulders. He felt so solid, so real. He pulled me onto his lap and hugged me tight. I could feel his arms around me, his legs under me, even the slight stubble of whiskers as I rested my cheek against his. “I’m dreaming,” I said.

“Me too,” said Mike, “only from the other side.”

“I miss you so much,” I said. His arms tightened a little around me and his voice was low and thick with emotion. “I miss you, too.”

When I got up this morning, as soon as I walked out of the bedroom I saw what had made the noise that startled me in the night. One of Mike’s dinosaur models had fallen off the top of the shelving unit in the dining room. There are, or were, three of them up there – and in the four years we’ve lived in that apartment, none of them have fallen down, not even during mild earthquake shaking. Maybe someone was trying to get my attention.

~ by hourbeforedawn on April 30, 2010.