My husband died in February.

We haven’t lived together for years, but

we stayed close. Just as we were when we were together.

He lived across the world, and when he died,

I thought I would somehow know. We had that bond.

But I didn’t. He was buried the following day.

No lengthy goodbyes, no chance to go to the meager funeral.

I miss having him in the world to talk to. I valued his opinions.

He had his failings, as did I, but it didn’t spoil our friendship.

He was always there for me, always looking for ways to help.

 

We traveled the world, we started a successful business,

we loved nature, we talked about philosophy and religion,

about science and genealogy, about children and politics.

We shared cooking and movies and art and music,

love of animals and gardening and good chocolate.

 

He loved to read my writing, and I loved to hear his.

(He had to translate, so he always read them to me.)

 

Two weeks ago, I had a dream.

He came home to our house and brought me

a tiny baby elephant. It must have been two days old.

Its little trunk flapped uselessly, and it still hadn’t

figured out what to do with its feet. It was love at first sight.

 

We had to go out for a while and had no place for him.

We put him in the empty garage with some blankets and water.

When we returned it was after dark. I was in a panic.

I had forgotten the baby, and was worried about his safety.

 

The garage was dimly lit, and the baby

was lying on the floor with its head between its front legs,

its rubbery little trunk lying helplessly on the concrete.

As soon as he saw us, he stumbled to his feet and ran out

right past us, across the street, trunk waving, to pee in the grass.

He came dancing back on his little toes, and rubbed and hugged

me excessively. I knew this baby was mine, and it was touching

to see his innocent little face and excitement.

 

In real life, my husband knew I looked to Karl Jung for dreams,

and when I looked up baby elephant it said,

“You have a lot of power, and you are starting a new enterprise

that will succeed greatly if you nurture it.”

 

That is just what my husband would have done–

made sure I understood that something good was happening.

Who can ignore an elephant, the harbinger of success?

Maybe he is still looking out for me.

 

That’s also love.