Up until this week, I'd had only one dream of Bob, and it was the most jarring experience. I awoke realizing he wasn't alive, as he had been in the dream I'd just awoken from, and it was like experiencing his death all over again, but at mach speed. Worst morning ever.
These dreams, this week, they're different. Sometimes he's incredibly sick, his body is broken, and he's near death. Other times, he appears briefly, not quite fitting with the story, and then, in a flash, he's gone.
I can only think it's because it's almost the one-year anniversary of his death that I'm dreaming about him more. It's like there are flickers of his energy that need to zap through my brain while I sleep to keep his memories wired in there even though I know I'd never forget him, but pieces of a person get pulled away from you when they've been gone for a while. The dreams feel like a way of tucking those pieces back in place.