I Had a Dream...

to help me cope...

Bobblehead night in 2019 © Nancy E Holroyd

Friday night I had a dream.

I’m kneeling in the doorway to Sheila’s bedroom. There is an open suitcase in front of me.

“Sheila, it will get cold tonight at the game. You will want your fleece pjs on under your clothes, so you don’t end up chilled.”

I am becoming more frantic as I search through the suitcase. All I can find are mint green and pale blue long sleeved tee-shirts that have rippled/flared cuffs edged in white and rippled/flared hem at the bottom of the shirt also edged in white. There is an overall repeating angel design on the shirts done in white.

I’m mumbling as I search, “why can’t I find your pjs? Why didn’t you bring them with you?”

“Mummy, I be fine without the fleece. I promise. I won’t be cold anymore.”

Because of Sheila’s panhypopituitarism, she did not tolerate cold or hot temperatures. Sitting around, watching an evening baseball game at this time of year used to present a stress her body could not respond to. We always made sure she had extra layers on when the temps started in the low sixties and dropped into the fifties. We would also bring a wool wrap, too.

Having this dream on Friday night made sense as we were set to go to a baseball game, which ended up being rained out.

We changed our tickets to Saturday night. So, my dreaming self went to town and created a likely scenario based on our past practices.

I felt so happy to see Sheila and know we were going to a game together; only to realize towards the end of the frantic search through her suitcase, I would not be seeing her.

Being in the midst of a dream and wanting a different outcome was still not going to bring Sheila back from the dead.

Twelve months ago, this dream would have really rocked my soul. I would wake up in tears, being so close, and yet so far away from her.

Now it left me with a soft, warm glow. It felt good “seeing” her, even if it was only in a dream. She looked so happy and so well rested. In the last five or six months of her life she had not been sleeping well. This was reflected in her quieter demeanor and her more drawn, exhausted appearance at times.

Last year, the first summer without Sheila, was very hard going to the opening night game of her favorite local baseball team. “Her” team is one of many teams that feed farm teams and minor league teams.

This particular team has “graduated” quite a few players to the major leagues over the years. It’s a small ballpark with no bad seats anywhere in the stadium.

This year, opening night, I could feel her presence without the pain. She would have enjoyed the game, even though our team lost 4-2. Our ValleyCats made up for the embarrassing loss the following night when they put on a show bringing 7 runs to the plate in the 7^th inning. Final score 12-2 rout over the Brockton Rox.

I initially planned and started a completely different post; however, Sheila would not be silenced.

AI is not used in the telling of my tales, or the writing of my essays and articles.