In the weeks before he died, I saw the clock almost twice every day show me numbers that reminded me of when M and I first met and fell in love. In those moments of numerical assistance I reminded myself to recall the love we shared in the beginning, the lightness and playfulness we shared with one another. In the last two weeks I've begun to see these numbers again.
A few weeks ago I began to meditate in deeper ways, while also asking to see more of M. I finally got to see him in a dream. In this dream, our children were again playing nearby in the woods by a creek. M and I watched our children play from inside the dim house. I got to hug M, to feel his skin, to smell him. I could almost hear his voice. There was a tattoo across the entirety of his bare chest. I imagined it would be an image from his favorite sports team. To my surprise, it was a cowboy on a bucking bronco. One hand was holding the cowboy hat down while the other held a circling lasso over his head.