My precious husband passed away on the morning of Sept. sixth. It was a long time coming as passings go. He went without food or drink for 13 days.
The first eleven days were bittersweet. We witnessed his reunion with deceased loved ones — one after the other, day after day, hugs and kisses after hugs and kisses — with so much laughter and joy on his part.
In lucid times, he told each of us with him, “Goodbye.” He and I shared so many, “I love you.”s and sweet and breathy kisses. I inhaled his breath and he, in return, inhaled mine. He touched my soul.
Day twelve he spoke no more. We knew he had departed his body which lay prone with no movement.
On the morning of the thirteenth day — 5:42 a.m.— his throat gurgled, his breathing became irregular, and within minutes it ceased. It appeared that his body ran on batteries which simply ran down until they were emptied. His breathing ceased.
Early this morning, on the third day from his passing, I had a dream where he and I were attending his brother’s funeral. The church was very crowded. I thought I needed to point out to him that, “All these people have come because of their love for YOU. See how loved you are!”
While it was a funeral, it was very comforting to know that we were together. Very close together. Our love permeated the atmosphere of mourning.
I never knew my husband’s brother; he died before my husband and I were married. It is my belief that in my dream, brother was used as the closest thing to actually being my husband because of the duality of 1) him being at my side and (2 him being dead.
He was such a loving and giving man. I do believe he came to me (as soon as he could) in that dream to reassure me that he will always be with me.
