Waking Up in a Dream

On Sunday morning, I woke up screaming. And then I woke up screaming again.

You ever have that dream that you so desperately want to escape that you try to shake your body awake? But, instead of waking up, your mind drops you off into a second dream? It took me several attempts before I could flee my Sunday morning dream.

I knew it would happen eventually. It was the reason why I have not wanted to sleep at night. The thought of seeing Cindy in a dream, talking to her, being near her again, and then to wake up and to not have that be real was excruciating to me.

But the dream I had on Sunday was not the one I had expected. In this dream, I was talking to some random person and then she morphed into Cindy. Cindy started yelling me and was angry at me for talking, for smiling, for eating, for continuing my life. And I remember just saying the word "no" over and over until I woke up.

This Monday, December 15th, Cindy was supposed to have completed her 18-month intensive nursing program. I was invited to the graduation ceremony (the school did a special honor for her), but I could not shore up the strength to go. I just could not do one more service. I struggled with this decision and I still wrestle with the feelings of selfishness for not going.

I know, without a doubt, that Cindy would have been a phenomenal nurse. The kind of nurse that would always walk into your room with a smile, that would hold your hand when your pain increased, and that would tell you a joke if she knew it would distract you from your chemotherapy treatment. I've read the journal she had to keep during her rotations at the hospital. Believe me, if you were in a hospital, you would have wanted Cindy as your nurse.

Because of the randomness of Cindy's death, it's hard not to think, "Why her? Who not me?" It may be selfish to think that, but I bet if I asked any other widow if they thought this as well, the answer would be yes. I constantly wonder why did she have to go? Why couldn't she go on to become a nurse? Why her of all people?

And then I wonder about me. I try to make sense of why I am here, why I'm able to smile, to laugh, to experience life. Sometimes I feel like the Jeff Bridges character from the 1993 movie, "Fearless." This is the film where he portrays the survivor of a horrific plane crash. As a result of this near-death experience, he has a newfound appreciation for life. But this increased clarity comes at a price to those closest to him before the crash. And his marriage and home life suffers as he goes on this new journey without his family.

It's almost 2am and I don't want to go to sleep. There is a pressure in my head to do the right thing, to make it worth it, to prove that there is a purpose to things. But I've read her nursing journal. I cannot surpass that. I don't know what I am supposed to do yet. I do not accept a re-awakening that comes at the expense of others--living or dead.