Have you ever had a dream that is not what it seems? What I mean is, I woke up this morning remembering a dream with a recurring character, my husband’s best friend. His name was Joe and he died at the age of 38 from congestive heart failure. Whenever he appears in my dreams, the first thing he says is that he’s sorry he hasn’t visited me for so long but that he was busy. That’s pretty much what he’d say after disappearing for a long time and popping up just when we gave up hope of ever seeing or hearing from him again. Then he would call or ring the bell. That’s how he enters my dreams.

This time he took me for a tour. The house was similar to his parents’ home except much larger. It also looked out on Long Island Sound. I remember standing with him, feeling the sun and hearing the gulls overhead in the distance. This time his father was there, making sure the guests were well fed and entertained. Joe looked sad and he said he missed us, that he wished things had turned out differently.
He said that it was harder and harder to visit, that this might be the last time, that he had to learn to accept his death and all it implied. I said I understood and when it was time to say goodbye, I kissed him. It felt as real and as satisfying as if I really did it. I told him that if he didn’t visit anymore that at least I could give him a gift he’d remember. And we both laughed.

I woke up with the conviction that we wouldn’t have another visit and it made me feel sad. Losing Joe was hard for us and neither of us ever thought it would happen. Maybe my mind is reliving the memories as a way of coping with death. A friend’s husband died last week and I heard just yesterday about another woman losing her husband at age 35. Perhaps these two deaths triggered my mind to reconnect with memories of Joe .
Or, maybe, he was just popping in for a psychic visit.