I periodically dream that my husband returns from the dead. That is not an unusual experience in grief. Our loved ones are embedded in our souls and psyches and our dreams reflect many aspects of our grief journey: our wish to see them, our struggle to accept their loss, our fears and worries about the future, to name a few. They may also present us with existential questions about death. In my case, accepting death has been particularly difficult. My husband disappeared at sea nearly six years ago. Neither he nor his boat were ever found. Despite knowing consciously that he will never come back, in my subconscious his return is totally plausible.  Sometimes we seek answers in our dreams: Is he OK? Does he know I love him? Can he please give me guidance from beyond? And, my question, what happened? My dreams often reflect the challenge of not knowing how he died. I keep hoping he’ll tell me in my dreams.

I was in the doldrums, sorting through a drawer, mourning my husband as the date of our anniversary approached. That old Kenny Rogers song, “The Gambler,” was playing in the background. I stopped what I was doing hoping for some comfort in the simplistic lyrics. I was drawn to a deck of cards in the back of the drawer, feeling compelled to spread them all out and see if I could find something to lift my spirits.

There is so much to discover in an ordinary card deck. The four suits alone give us a look at basic aspects of life that are impacted when there is a death of a loved one.

Barbara Bergstein has worked with families of disabled children for over 30 years. She has served as a board member of the Autism Society of Los Angeles and spoken to parent groups about the rights of children with disabilities. Barbara is also a practicing attorney specializing in estate planning for individuals with special needs. She is frequently consulted by other law firms on the uses of Special Needs Trusts to protect government benefits for disabled children and adults. Barbara can be reached at her website.

I have suffered many losses. My parents died within a year of each other, first my father then my mother. The year after my mother died, my brother died of lung cancer at age 63. I am now an orphan and the sole surviving member of my family of four. 

My husband was lost at sea. Sailing around the world was his lifelong dream. He bought the boat, retired, spent years preparing for the journey and set a date. I supported his dream but didn’t want to go with him. We both agreed that I would meet him at various ports, sharing in the experience that way. After six months cruising the Sea of Cortez (where I joined him several times) he took off solo for the South Pacific. He never completed his passage between Mexico and the Marquesas. Three weeks into his five-week crossing, he disappeared in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, hundreds of miles from any landmass in one of the most remote places on earth for search and rescue. I never got to say goodbye.