I'm missing my baby today. I had another dream about Miles last night. I've been dreaming about him most nights. In my dream we were carrying him around where ever we went even though we knew he was dead. We knew it was weird but we just couldn't let go of him. He was dressed in the clothes we buried him in. I don't think I was carrying him around, but other people around me were. That's the thing about my dreams...I never get to touch him or hold him. I want to, but it's like I keep getting pulled in different directions so I can't get to him. Then in my dream we had decided that it wasn't right to keep carrying him around when we knew he was dead. We had decided that he needed to be cremated. I awoke as the fire began to flame.
The dreams aren't uplifting. I don't wake up happy that I dreamed about him. They leave me sad and sometimes disturbed. They leave me longing. I'm sure if I dreamt about him being able to run around and happy I would enjoy dreaming about him, but I don't.
I'm guessing this is part of the process of grief, but I don't like it very much.
I know this isn't a very encouraging thing to read, but I've always shared the Good, the Bad and the Ugly on this blog. I will continue to do so. Today it just happens to be part of the Bad.