The Chronicles of Munchkin Land

She comes to me in dreams. But not usually in outrageously dramatic ways. She’s just usually there, present in person and spirit instead of just the normal spirit. I can see her. My dream-me can reach out and touch her. My parented sons interact with her. The normalcy is almost boring.

But I wake up reaching out for her.

I wonder if the dreams are like this because she is always with me in spirit. I wonder if her presence in my dreams is just a subconscious manifestation of the fact that I always have her in heart and on my mind. I won’t pretend to know much about the subconscious mind or psychology; that’s a job for my therapist!

But I’m always off kilter after a dream in which she appears.

I keep turning my head, expecting to see her sitting on the floor reading a book with my older son. I expect to open the door to the nursery and see her peering over the side rail of the crib. I want to call her to come to the table for lunch. The dreams leave me with this odd, left behind feeling.

At the same time, I love seeing her in my dreams, no matter how grieved I feel the next day. I crave that normalcy, if only for however long a dream lasts. It bridges these gaps in time.