Wednesday, November 30, 2011

My Nightmare

Usually when I am in the midst of a nightmare, the instant I come to the realization that it is in fact a nightmare, I wake up.  That was not the case last night, which made it by far the scariest dream I've ever had.

As the nightmare begins, I am at a fundraiser.  I don't know what the fundraiser is for, or what my purpose there is, or how I even know it was a fundraiser, but I am at a fundraiser.  I am in a state of shock because I've just been told that my husband has been killed in a car accident.  I am looking around the room seeing people who I recognize (high school friends, Stampin' Up! customers, people from church), and I'm wondering if I should tell anyone.  If I do tell anyone, who should I tell first? 

Then I notice these two boys running around chasing each other, laughing and having so much fun.  I realize these are my boys.  The children my husband and I brought into this world.  The products of our love.  And I begin to feel a pain in my chest, like a hole in my heart.  How do I tell them they will never see their father again?

The reality of the situation starts to set in, and I know that I have got to get out of this place.  I grab their hands and try not to let them see that I am upset.  I tell a friend from high school that I have to go, and I wonder if she has heard the news that has suddenly destroyed my life.

I step out of the building onto a busy street, and it hits me.  This is just a dream.  Wake up... 

Wake up... 

Why am I not waking up?! 

Oh no!  It must not be a dream.  This is a nightmare.  This is my worst nightmare. 

At that moment, my pulse begins racing, and I feel a hole in my chest where my heart is supposed to be.  My chest hurts.  I am having a panic attack.  How can I not panic when I've just lost the only man I've ever loved?  How do I live without him?

A million thoughts begin to run through my mind.

"I need to call my mom."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know what to do."
"How did I get here?"
"We talked about this.  What did he tell me I should do?"
"I don't know what to do."
"What did he tell me I should do?
"I need to call my mom."

I look around, seriously trying to remember how we got to this place where the fundraiser is being held, because if I can't remember that, then how will we get back home.

My boys are smiling at each other, saying funny things to make the other one laugh. 

I tell myself again to wake up.  This is just a dream.  If this were a dream, I would wake up.  But I'm not waking up, so it hits me again that this is real. 

Oh my God.  He's really dead. 

Then my eyes opened, and I found myself lying in our bed.  My heart was racing, and I was in the midst of a real panic attack.  I looked to my left, and was so relieved to find my high school sweetheart sleeping beside me.  He's alive!  Oh thank God.

It was just a horrible, horrible nightmare - the worst nightmare I've ever had. 

I rolled over close to him and forced myself into his arms.  I laid my head on his chest, and I cried and cried and cried.  He didn't have to ask what my nightmare was.  I think he could tell by the way I clung to him.