I Woke up Crying at 3 am For No Known Reason
Learning how to reclaim joy before I slip into sadness
When my husband died — I quit dreaming in my sleep.
The absence of dreams may have been because I slept only in one-hour spurts. And the lack of quality sleep is known to diminish dreams. So I didn’t worry — the first few years.
Sleep now comes mostly in three-hour increments. And I occasionally dream.
But I sometimes wake up crying for no known reason. Not often, yet enough to be noted.
I have no idea as to why I am crying. I just find my cheeks and pillow wet with tears. And the tears keep flowing when I sit up.
There’s no bad dream that I can remember, just a runny nose and an inability to fall back asleep.
Three years a widow
Curious though — I’ve yet to dream about my husband, at least that I can remember. And I don’t think my tears come from that.
I’ve read accounts by other widows — that their husbands come to them in their dreams. Sometimes with messages. And I’ve fought off a fleeting feeling of abandonment because my husband has yet to visit me.
Instead, I view it as a sign that we had no unresolved issues.
He was at peace when he died and so was I, holding his hand to the end.
We’d talked about the possibility of him dying first. He’d told me his wishes if that became the case. What he wanted for me:
- Be happy
- Do not isolate myself in the house — go out and be with people
- Know I am loved — forever
He was a prolific dreamer
The absence of dreaming feels odd because my husband dreamed almost every night. And he remembered his dreams in the morning.
I loved telling stories about sleeping next to such an active dreamer. One is published on my Medium page: Remarkably, My Husband Laughed in His Sleep:
His dreams were always adventures — like mini-action movies. Sometimes they were in cartoon form, sometimes there was a mix of lifelike beings and fantasy characters.
Visually, he was so creative — not surprising — he was an architect, artist and engineer. His original ideas didn’t turn off — even when he slept.
He always dreamt in color.
A work in progress
There is no timeline for grief. I’ve learned to be kind to myself and let the tears flow — both sleeping and awake. There is no need to know why — just let them come. No judgement, only acceptance.
But I also don’t want to drown in a pool of self-pity. So I’ve learned how to tread water, and stay neutral until there’s time for joy to refill my soul:
- Swim every day — to stay balanced
- List three blessings daily — a reminder of all the good in my life
- Be kind to others — give a smile, write a letter, lend a helping hand
Maybe the tears are a reminder from my husband to be present, to think of others, to recall the joy we shared over 42 years which is longer than what many people get.
Maybe the tears are another step in my journey of grief.
Maybe, or more likely, I’m overanalyzing the whole thing. I can hear my husband chuckling in his sleep — and I hear his voice telling me, ‘be happy.’
