I’m lying in our bed, on my side of the bed. I just changed the sheets – I miss being able to make my usual remark to you about how lovely fresh sheets are. Ember sits above my head on the headboard, his beautiful green eyes so striking next to his long sleek black hair. Shifu is immediately to my right, and Elvis seems to have finally settled, buried under the fleece blanket, his head on Shifu.
I miss you so acutely at bedtime. Our bedroom was our sanctuary. The big king sized bed, our mermaid hooks on the wall, blackout curtains, the A-frame bookshelf behind the door, the beautiful tree painting above the bed… the room is so perfectly us.
I look over to my left – the dog bed is on the floor where we were planning on putting the crib. George should be 6 weeks old by now, but the crib is still in its box, never opened, tucked away in the exercise room.
We’d trained the dogs to sleep in their bed on the floor. They’ve been back in the bed with me since my first night back at the house – I wanted them up here with me probably more than they did! Most nights now, both dogs and the cat will be in bed near me as I’m falling asleep.
I miss our routines, your comments about my “snorty snores”, your physical presence, our emotional connection. I miss negotiating what tv show we will fall asleep to. I miss reminding you to take your medicine before bed, and I even miss comforting you after you wake from your nightmares.
I feel like I’m in some strange alternate universe, where everything seems like our life but it’s an imposter, a well made fake. If I could just get back to our universe, then you’d be there, waiting for me.
One can dream…