I took the kids to one of the local farmer's markets yesterday. It was lovely to amble through the market checking out everyone's wares. We bought some produce.
And looked at all the clourful and interesting things that we are going to try to make at home...
We walked along the docks nearby.
It was both a beautiful and sad experience.
I loved all the colours, textures and smells of the wharf....But with each of these came so many memories of Jeff.
There are so many stories that Liv wants to relive. I do too. But, oh, it hurts to think about it. I want to hide from them for some reprieve at times.
I have been having incredibly vivid and intense dreams about Jeff. Not the beautiful and comforting dreams that I would love to have. Tortured and stressful dreams. At least they are not about the actual moment of his death, I guess. It's as if my brain is trying to experience every alternate experience except for his death now. I have dreamed that I was hiding from Jeff in a church. I could hear him coming and I hid under one of the carts that carries the coffin. Am I telling myself that I am trying to hide from him and the pain that thoughts of his absense bring?
I've had a dream that he was in jail in Montana. Weird? Oh yes. But I was trying to find someone to take care of the kids so I could drive to the jail and get him out. I needed internet access so I could figure out which jail it was in Montana. Why Montana? I have no bloody idea.
I had a dream that he called me and wanted to find out how much money was in the bank account because he was staying in some hotel called 'The Pacific Coast Cabana' with a girl named Maribu. I was a little bit pissed off that he had pulled this whole death scam on me but mostly, I was happy he was alive and really wanted to see him to make sure it wasn't someone just pretending to be him.
I seem to have one of these types of dreams everytime I lay down. I hate them. They freak me out and make my heart beat so hard that I feel like I have a pulsating egg stcuk in my throat when I wake up. I feel guilty for being the one who is alive. Why? I have no fucking idea. I just wish he was the one here with the kids. Maybe he wouldn't be as messed up. Maybe he could live a semi-normal life without me. I don't know but why am I the one left behind?
The Silencing of a Poet
4 weeks ago