At 3:10 A.M., delicious feelings roused me to this dream:
It is dusk—breezes tease overhanging limbs of nearby trees. Next to me sits Joe, my former husband, his arm across my chest, which I gently stroke with my fingers. Total is our wordless communion.
Joe’s presence, however construed, in this morning’s dream is a profound gift. Our 1990 divorce, though without rancor, served to keep us separated from then on. In June 2013, a friend had informed me of his passing, supported by his wife, a former nurse, and the hospice team. That night, Joe appeared in my dream, his arms outstretched—we, embraced, unlike any time during our marriage. His aura lingered for hours, perhaps acknowledging my prayer for his peaceful demise.
In this morning’s dream Joe appeared again, so loving and attentive. After the dream passed, I luxuriated in deep joy.
Later, I wondered why my Dreamer had set this up, perhaps to convince me of the unconditional love interpenetrating me and all of creation as I draw the next breath. Certainly the experience speaks of Higher Power’s ineffable compassion for His handiwork.
My psychic cleansing continues…

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