This is a Really Real Widow Post.
Parker was in my dreams last night.
I was in some class, where we were all sitting on a giant bed together instead of desks, and the teacher had McFlurry’s delivered for everyone.
Don’t ask me, fucking weird ass dreams.
But then after class I went to the office and Parker was just standing there. She saw me and got one of her big smiles (the ones that make her eyes squint). We talked for awhile. Mundane conversation that I can’t remember the details of. I knew she was a ghost and at one point I asked her “Why are you staying here instead of being with me?” And she asked “Who says I’m not with you?”
I’ve been thinking about her more lately, which is why I had a dream about her, I’m sure.
I’ve been remembering little things that I haven’t thought of in years.
She didn’t like mint toothpaste, so I would search for other flavors and buy 3 or 4 tubes at a time. We were so happy when Crest came out with an orange flavored, but eventually they discontinued it.
I’ve used mint toothpaste since she died, just switched without realizing it, but I might go look for another flavor next time.
I’ve also remembered the specific way she liked her boxers and bras folded. She didn’t care how I folded anything else, but those two had a specific way of being folded. I used to laugh, they’re fucking underwear, who cares, as mine would be half balled up and thrown into the drawer.
But since she died I fold my underwear just like that. Something I didn’t even realize I was doing until just recently.
There was more to the dream. Friends I haven’t seen in forever, friends I’m growing distant from.
At some point it changed completely and Wonder Woman was there. I wish I could remember more about that part.
Being a widow is strange sometimes. Remembering the little things that catch me off guard. How did I forget that. How did it slip from my memory when it was such a big deal for all those years.
It makes me wonder what else I’ve forgotten.
What else is missing.
Besides her of course.
I’m happy that I’m living this particular life, but sometimes it really hurts that she’s not here too.
But then I remember this version of life only exists because she’s gone.
That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
So, I’ll just be happy for that rare moment that she pops up in my dreams. That moment when I get to see the smile that goes to her eyes. That moment when I get to see her face light up one more time.
I miss her.