Appreciating visitation dreams

I've been doing better for several days now, on a much more even keel. I suspect some of my anxiety a week ago was a reflection of the anxiety I felt in the week after Sandy died. Nothing was normal or routine that week as I worked my way through difficult death tasks while Tonia was here with me. Tonia was a tremendous support at a time that I desperately needed her. When I was ready to be on my own in the house, though, I returned to a more routine schedule and could start to remember the life Sandy and I had shared just six weeks earlier.

It also helps that Sandy came to me in visitation dreams a couple of times recently, and that she's been in my non-visitation dreams frequently. Even those manifestations of my subconscious help, because seeing her, even in the bizarre circumstances that are often present in the dream world, gives me the comfort of having spent time with her.

There's one visitation dream I thought I'd share here, though, because it amused me. Having recently given up DirecTV and therefore TiVo, I've had to put more effort into obtaining my favorite shows and watching them; no longer do I just plop myself in front of the TV and ask TiVo what's available. Especially because TiVo was something Sandy brought into our lives very early in the service's existence, and because I associate the shows I watch so strongly with her, I've felt some consternation at the change in routine. But I've got things figured out now and kind of like the new set-up.

When she visited, I was telling Sandy all about it, excited that she was back and would get to see the seasons she'd missed of her favorite shows. For example, I told her that though she hadn't watched House the last few years, I thought she'd enjoy the series finale. She asked how I was watching things, and I told her I was using my laptop. And then I reminded her that I have hers in my office. She said, "Oh yeah, I found it." I said, "It's still pretty much as you left it. I've just used it to run beta software," and she replied, "You should get more comfortable with using it." I thought at this point she was going to say that she wasn't going to be around to use it; I was afraid she was going to tell me that she was leaving again. Instead, in classic Sandy fashion, she said, "I want a new shiny one."

I bought Sandy a laptop for her birthday in 2006, just before she started
grad school, and it became her constant companion until it fizzled
early in 2011. She tried to fix it, but the motherboard was toast. So she
bought a new laptop just a week before we left for vacation in May 2011.
She used it maybe a month before going to the hospital, and only
a few times after that. But a year later, I still feel tentative every
time I use it. It's still hers — until she gets a shiny new one.

Of course! If Sandy became part of the physical world again, she'd want a much better machine than the cheap one she bought when she was panicking about money and her old laptop failed. Especially after she'd just seen the beauty of my new MacBook Pro, which is the machine I use to watch TV shows now. Sandy would want a shiny new laptop of her own, as long she knew that I could make use of her old one in my work.

While any type of dream that has Sandy in it, that has us being us, has the potential to soothe me, visitation dreams actually bring her back for that brief window of time. The conversations we have in them are real and unpredictable, and she can be as cranky or as sweet as she wants to be. It's an amazing gateway and a tremendous gift.