Have you ever hallucinated (or THOUGHT you were hallucinating)? I thought I was yesterday, and let me tell you, it was terrifying and exhillerating both at the same time.
Although I don't talk about it so much here in the Shark Tank, I have been having some difficulty dealing with losing my Zoe. I have been avoiding going home at night (the house is big and empty), and when I do finally go home I'm having a hard time going to sleep. I didn't realize how much a part of my life she was, and how much my daily routines were dependent on her.
Fortunately for me, I have wonderful friends (NANCY) and family who have been exceptionally supportive and kind enough to let me talk about my feelings without judging me, trying to fix me, or just telling me to 'get over it'. I consider myself so blessed.
Knowing my troubles, though, you can now appreciate the following scenario: I went straight to the HomeD pot last night after work in an effort to defeat the indecision that has prevented me thus far from getting new carpet (ok, the truth was that I was delaying the inevitible return to the empty house, but I have narrowed down the carpet selection to 2 choices, so I'm making progress). When I came home around 10 p.m. I came in, changed into my jammies, grabbed my book and sat down to read in my favorite chair. Finally around 1:30 a.m. I decided that actually going to sleep in the bed was better than nodding off in the chair, so I got up, turned off the lights and the tele and headed into the bedroom.
As I got to the bedroom, the only light that was on was the overhead in the hallway. I don't like to turn on the overhead light in my bedroom right before bedtime because it just makes me want to sit up and read some more. I started to walk over to the bedside table to flip on the lamp, and I noticed a big black shape laying across my bed. I remember thinking that I hadn't thrown any clothes on the bed before I left that morning, so I let my eyes adjust to the dark to try and figure out what the thing was. To my utter surprise, shock, elation and horror I saw a little black face staring at me from Zoe's spot on the bed.
I honestly couldn't believe what was happening. I felt a little light-headed and confused and for just a second I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I thought immediately of people reporting seeing their loved ones after they had passed, but it seemed so crazy that it was happening to me. It looked like Zoe and it was laying in her spot, but I was afraid to move closer because I didn't want to scare it away (if indeed it turned out that I hadn't just rounded the bend that puts you in the "asylum-qualifying" category). Instead, I gently said, "Zoe?" Zoe, it's ok baby, it's mama. Oh baby, I can see you! Come here sweetheart." Of course I had tears streaming down my face and I was praising the graces for the this one last gift.
When the vision didn't move, it occurred to me to turn on the overhead light. This is what was on my bed:
Turns out that my mum thought that something cuddly would make me feel a little bit better (it has!), but although she anticipated I would cry a little, she never dreamed I wouldn't turn on the light when I put my jammies on!!
I still get a little start from time to time when I come around the corner to see him, but I'm starting to get used the little fellow. He's no Zoe, but he sure does give a great hug.