Sunday, August 2, 2015


I woke this morning from a dream about Jay.

In this dream, there was some legal thing that needed to be done, and it could only be done if Jay were still alive. So some doctors figured out that if they put blood back into him, they could bring him back to life.

After the procedure, Jay, Mother of the Child, and I were sitting in a doctor's office, where MotC was berating Jay for not having his bursitis checked out.  Jay was sitting by the window and was desperate to see the outside, since he hadn't since his resurrection. He struggled with the vertical blinds, and said how he hated those things.  I thought he meant the blinds, but he was referring to some white flowers outside the window, which in the dream were my favorite flowers. They made music if you touched the flowers. It stung that he so strongly hated them.

What this means, beyond an obvious desire to have Jay back, is beyond me. It was quite a strange thing to wake up from, and my day is still slightly off because of it.

Combine this with someone else's dream about a resurrected Jay (link found on Twitter), and I think what we get is that it's really sinking in that he's gone, forever gone.

Another portal of grief we're passing through ...