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Family | Grief | Dreams
It’s Been Four Years Since She Died. Why Am I Still Telling Her?
Four years later, my subconscious has caught up to my reality.
Grief still has a way of surprising me.
This coming September will mark four years since Momma physically left this Earth. There are days when it feels like it happened just yesterday, and others that feel less so. The latter emotional space is where I find myself most of the time — a dull heartache that’s manageable if I can find a good enough distraction. If grief is the remaining love (or “love persevering,” as say), then I know this is something I will feel on wavering levels for the rest of my life.
Just recently, I found myself experiencing a new development of my grief: Knowing that Momma’s gone in both my waking and sleeping life.
Momma has made multiple appearances in my dreams since her passing. Before this point, I saw her alive and well, just as lively and loud as she often was. But lately, when she appears, I find that I have to break the sad news to her. Her reaction to this tends to mirror the stubbornness she exuded in life, a trait I genuinely miss more than I ever thought I would.
