The brain resists what the heart can't handle

Sandy with our niece, Brooke, six years ago tomorrow.

Sandy's death continues to be unreal to me. Her dying was very real; I remember it clearly. But the not coming back? I don't know if it's because I've felt her presence so much, conversed with her in so many dreams and throughout my day (though much of that is monologue), or just because I can't accept that the universe would allow her to go. But it's clear that, even while I go about settling her estate and telling people she's dead, I don't truly believe it.

Yesterday morning, she was in my dream. She wasn't back from being dead as she has been before; this time she'd never died. In the dream, I remembered clearly that the last time I'd seen her, she'd been wheeled off to surgery, and then somehow we all assumed she'd died. But here she was, telling me she'd been in the hospital all that time, recovering from surgery, and she was fine now. I was so relieved. I woke confused, trying to remember what the surgery was for, and it was only several minutes later that I realized there'd been no surgery this year. And the last time I saw her body, it wasn't wheeled out for surgery but to a hearse. (I find it important to make the distinction between Sandy and her body at that point. She'd left before the funeral home attendant got there. Her body was on the gurney; I don't know where she was.)

This morning, I woke feeling comforted. In my dream, she was curled around me. I felt her skin against mine, and I told her how wonderful it felt, how much I've missed it. We were very much together, snuggled in tightly. I needed it, and I was grateful for it. I was disappointed when she wasn't in the bed this morning, but I thanked her for the very real, very physical visit.

She's with me in one way or another nearly every day. I wouldn't change that for anything, except to exchange it for her physical presence. But I do wonder whether that frequent contact is what makes it so very difficult for me to understand that she's not coming back — or if that would prove to be a challenge even if I'd had no sign of her these past 16 weeks.