blissful dreams and the saddest awakening 

I am sobbing; my grief has become such a big part of who I am that I’m not even sure what’s left of me. This morning I dreamed about my little sister, who we lost in 1996 from complications from a bone marrow transplant (she had myelodysplastic syndrome). She was a month shy of her fifteenth birthday. It’s been so long that the memories I have of her could belong to a completely different person.

The last time Meg visited me in my dreams was the night between the two days of my D&E pregnancy termination. They had stopped Molly’s heart the first day. In that dream, Meg appeared as a young child, clad in red footsie pajamas. This morning she was all grown up as if she’d never left me. We were hanging out at the beach, having fun. The way things were supposed to be; the way things never were.

It was good to just have a friend. I don’t remember the last time I have had fun.

My body feels too narrow, like my skin could burst open any minute spilling sorrow on the crisp white sheets. My sadness makes my friends uncomfortable and I get the unmistakable feeling that they’d rather run from me than spend another awkward moment in my presence. If I have a healthy baby will the world take me back?

No, I imagine it wouldn’t.  


2 thoughts on “blissful dreams and the saddest awakening 

  1. I do not have the right words for the emotions you express and feel as though anything I say might not do justice to your sadness. But, I need you to know that you are a beautiful writer. Exquisite actually. You take emotions and feelings that many people probably experience and put them into a tangible understanding. Even for a person who has never dealt with the things you have, your words make them understandable/relatable. It’s beautiful, really.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s