…with him.


Sometimes I imagine what a conversation with my late husband Bret, would be like.

Let’s say he’s given some kind of temporary earth pass (which I think some dreams might actually be) to sit down and catch up with me. Everything stays the same – he’s still departed – but I get to fill him in and he gets to react to everything.

In one recent dream, I dreamed that he was asking to see his ten-year-old.

Our daughter was ten when he died, so naturally, he would still think of her like that.

I imagine he’d want to start with her and see how she’s been doing.

“It’s been a struggle, Bret,” I say.

“How so?” He would inquire.

I then go on to tell him about all of the ups and downs she’s experienced. Her severe diagnosed OCD. Her anxiety.

I don’t want him to feel bad about it, but I definitely want him to know that his self-imposed exit has in fact played a part in all of this.

In my mind, he is just listening intently at this point.

“So, what about you?” He finally asks.

“I have experienced completely falling apart as well as rising from the ashes…” I would start.

Bret had a pretty big jealous streak when he was earthside so it would be difficult to quickly sort through what I should or should not tell them.

Maybe I’d start with my achievements…

“Well, I finally wrote a book,” I’d say. “Three, actually.”

I KNOW he would react happily to this news.

He wouldn’t, however, care for the novella I wrote because it is semi-autobiographical and it deals with subject matter that once more, he wouldn’t approve of.

In this scenario, though, he is just happy.

“I knew you’d do it.” He would say.

We’d move on to the parts where I tell him that many of our old “friends” aren’t actually friends anymore. This would then bring us to the utter strife and turmoil between me and his older daughter. (He wouldn’t like it, but he wouldn’t be surprised.)

Then we’d talk about how his step-mom – who was widowed by his dad just a few months after me – is now remarried and she even lives in a different state!

Eventually, our time would be up and he’d have to go back to where ever he is, and I’d have to carry on in the land of the living.

I’d like to think he’d tell me that I am doing great and that things are going to get better. I would hope he would also tell me that he is better, too.

He’d tell me, hopefully, that his mental illnesses are long gone as are his physical illnesses too.

Then he’d talk about how unbelievably peaceful things are for him now, and that this is just how it had to be.

“You can’t understand it now, but someday you will.” He would say, serenely.

“A good long someday…you still have so much living to do.”

And then he’d be gone once more.

Screengrab from the movie Ghostone of my favorites.


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 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.