I remember the early days after my husband’s death when I longed for a dream of him or any sign that he was still around.

I have always had intense dreams about my departed loved ones and usually consider them to be “visits.”

I still have regular dreams about my great-grandmother and she’s been gone for thirty years now. I love it when she pops in to check on me!

After Bret died, sleep was a welcome escape aside from the fact that I dreaded waking up in the morning only to face the realization that he was gone. It was as if the movie “Groundhog Day” had taken a nightmarish turn and I was given this awful news each and every day.

But sleep, on the other hand, was my friend.

Of course, I was attempting to knock myself out as much as possible, and in doing so I didn’t really remember my dreams the next morning.

It took nearly a month but I finally had a pleasant albeit brief dream of him. At first, it made me feel a bit euphoric, but soon I was just sad all over again.

It was very symbolic and managed to convince me that it was a message that he was still with me.

That was back in 2018 and I still recall it quite well.

In fact, I remember most if not all dreams I’ve had of him, and honestly, not all of them have been great.

After a few happier dreams following his death, the dreams became darker.

We had a complicated, rocky relationship but truly did love each other. There were a lot of problems throughout our nearly twelve years.

I began dreaming of these and “new” problems.

In these dreams, he was always fighting with me.

He would ignore me; walk away from me never to be seen again.

He would flaunt new loves in front of me.

I would be thankful upon waking, knowing that it was all just a bad dream.

Soon these awful dreams started affecting my waking life, causing a little bit of resentment to take root.

This resentment was actually my subconscious mind prompting me to process our life together and the hell he had been capable of putting me through.

I allowed myself to get mad and face the anger.

Oddly enough, once I started doing this, the dreams started changing!

He was the one pursuing me, in these dreams.

He was kind and apologetic, even funny.

The last one of its kind was where he and I had decided to remarry and we were heading to the courthouse to get the paperwork.

I have not had these kinds of dreams since.

Oh, he’s made an appearance here or there, but it no longer causes me intense grief.

I do like it when I dream of him. I can rarely remember what these dreams entail, I just know that I awaken with a pleasant feeling, vaguely aware that he has visited me.

I have always been fascinated by dreams and their symbolism, so I have been able to objectively analyze and respect the messages that these dreams have given to me.

But these dreams have both elated and devastated me at different times.

I guess bittersweet dreams are just part of the price we pay for loving others.

 

 

 

About 

Layla Beth Munk is a blogger & author who was thrust into this widowhood journey abruptly and tragically on February 11, 2018. Her husband of 12 years had ended his pain once and for all. She soon made the decision that she would not let his final decision define the rest of her life or their daughter’s life, so with her sense of humor at the helm, she started writing about her newfound station in life. Grief waves still get to her, and probably always will, but with the help of her fellow widows as well as my friends and family, she has been able to realize her dream of becoming a published author! Layla is so grateful to Hope For Widows Foundation for providing this level of support to her, and so many others! Layla has two amazing children, one who is grown and one who is almost grown. She lives in eastern Oregon and has a wellness & beauty background. Layla enjoys writing poetry, watching anime, and homeschooling her daughter.

Her blog can be found at laylabethmunk.medium.com and her debut novella, 24 Hours in Vegas, is available on Amazon.