In grief group on Friday, in a casual moment, I told my clients that sometimes my husband laughs in his sleep so exuberantly that his laughing wakes us both up—that I am awakened by his laughter and laugh at him laughing until we’re both laughing hysterically, half-asleep, at a dream neither of us can remember in the small hours of the morning, in the stillness and the dark.
37. Bread and roses.
37. Bread and roses.
37. Bread and roses.
In grief group on Friday, in a casual moment, I told my clients that sometimes my husband laughs in his sleep so exuberantly that his laughing wakes us both up—that I am awakened by his laughter and laugh at him laughing until we’re both laughing hysterically, half-asleep, at a dream neither of us can remember in the small hours of the morning, in the stillness and the dark.