other layers of life

I don't dream of J very often. And when I do, it is usually a very brief and relatively somber appearance.
But the night his little girl arrived in New York City he was in my dreams all night. He was everywhere - in every strange unrelated new scene of my dreams - and in each vision he just seemed so happy.

His mother Thea told me that when his daughter was sleeping over, she felt her son's presence in the house strongly, and that the lights began flickering again. In her half-sleep, dozing off with her grand-daughter late at night, she vaguely felt a depression on the edge of the bed. As if someone had sat down beside them.

****

The realization of how much I miss him comes to me often unexpectedly.
What I have noticed is a pattern: whenever this sudden sadness takes hold of my heart, I get a subtle but clear sign that he (or his soul, essence, energy, I-don't-know-what) is with me. I'm not sure if it's him giving the sign or some other divinely assigned post (or maybe there is some sort of automatic divine algorithm to it) but either way -- to me -- they are so clear that it often takes me from tears to a smile. Even when I'm not crying and the awareness of his absence suddenly overwhelms me, it's hard to ignore these little "gestures" (or, memory triggers, if you will).

My postmortem entries are full of stories about this.

Most recent one -- yesterday:
As I was sitting on my computer listening to Spotify a song came on that, for some reason (chorus?), really gets to me (video link below).
To hide my the tears from my children, I moved to the window and as I was standing there - my hand resting on J's ashes on the sill, the strong breeze drying my tears - my gaze fell onto a man walking by across the street. He was dressed in a very similar way J used to dress (mostly due to the fact that almost all his clothes came from shelter donation rooms): Everything was a little too big on him and he would have to constantly pull up his pants. The guy down on the street also held his cigarette the same way, had a similar physique and hair cut, and walked almost identically to the way J used to stride.
It made me smile because for a full few breaths could I let myself imagine that this was him down there...and he had just gone out to smoke a cigarette and walk a few feet just as he always used to.



Sometimes, when I'm particularly desperate to stop crying, despite these comforting signals of his presence (or a dimension of life that I may not be able to grasp, yet), I am reminded of one of the first instances of this communication - a succession of small signs that ended with an encouragement to pray.
And then I pray.

***
Last night I went out to Times Square and the busy bright midnight summer scene reminded me of how J and I sometimes came to TS or down to the Village to walk around in the middle of the night, enjoying the vibrant pulse of this city.

I miss you, I thought, soo much - when suddenly - I hear a succession of a few long jazzy notes played on a saxophone that instantly reminded me of a video I shot a few years ago of J walking down Bleecker Street. In the recording, despite the late hour (1:30 a.m.), the street is full with people and as we turn the corner there is a Barry White Doppelgaenger, playing that same succession of notes auditorily mirroring what I'm hearing at this moment at Times Square.
(Please note: I'm not actually sure what Barry White looks like exactly. I just know he is black, probably over 45, and usually decorated with a full beard. If I were more motivated, I could venture out to google him now...but I'm not.)

Anyway, as I pass by a man with his head lowered, wearing a Yankees baseball cap - just as J often did - I try to locate the saxophone player only to realize that it is the exact same guy I recorded years back _AND HE IS EVEN WEARING THE EXACT SAME SHIRT and sunglasses as in my video. It feels as if I'm looking at a tiny snippet of my footage transposed into a different background set.

Anyway ... it is almost 5 o'clock in the morning now.
This insomnia isn't getting any better....