Brrrrrrrr. The shrill blare of the alarm clock jolted me awake and out of the thick fog of sleep. I was watching Kathy running in a field of daffodils.

She swung her head, causing her hair to flow over her shoulders, and she laughed. The sound of her voice was clear and melodic, just as I would imagine the voice of a hundred angels singing songs of worship.

Kathy stopped and turned to me. She paused, as though surprised to see me. She smiled and her eyes crinkled in delight. Her whole face lit up with love. She waved at me.

Suddenly, Kathy started to fade away.

"Nooooooo," I yelled, stretching out my hand to grab her and keep her with me for just moments longer.

I wanted to keep holding on to the relief I felt when I was with her.

But even as I said the words, I knew they were wishful. I wasn't making audible sounds.

My eyes snapped open, and I was on my bed, in my dark quiet room. For a moment my body remained frozen.

A tear slid down my cheek. Kathy looked so happy that it deepened my sadness. I sighed.

The way she had laughed in the dream reminded me of a time, some years back, when my wife, Kathy, and I were out at the park. Kathy had wanted us to go on the free fall.

I was reluctant but Kathy dragged me by my hand. "Come on, darling. It'll be fun."

Shaking my head, I'd gone on the ride with her. Kathy was screaming, clutching my hand and laughing wildly at the same time.

She was scared stiff but exhilarated by the experience.

Even as our hair stood vertical from the speed of the fall, I still felt my breath stop. I stared at her twinkling bright eyes, silky blonde hair and full red lips.

Laying in the bed, I could still hear Kathy's laughter echoing in my ears.

The harsh sound of the alarm clock continued to grate on my nerves, and I reached out with a trembling hand and slammed down the snooze button.

The silence that followed was deafening. It was a sudden and sharp contrast that jarred my emotions in every direction.

I lay there in the predawn darkness, my eyes on the ceiling. I felt the ever-lingering flood of grief wash over me like a tidal wave, dragging me down as though it was an anchor tied to my ankle and flung into the deep, blue sea.

I was used to this pattern by now. Any day I dreamed of Kathy like this, I woke up depressed and tears welled up in my eyes. They were as fresh as though Kathy had just passed.

Not today, Dan. Today, you must be strong. Remember the children. For their sake, move forward, make progress.

I nodded, refusing to let the tears fall.

I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled to the window, I pulled back the curtains.

By now the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the rooftops. It seemed as reluctant to start its day as I was reluctant to face it. Even at that, the beauty of the sunrise did nothing to ease the pain in my heart.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I turned away from the window and walked over to the dresser. I picked up a framed photo of Kathy.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, her eyes filled with the same love and laughter that filled my dreams night after night since she left us.

I traced the outline of her face with my finger, my touch lingering on her lips. I could almost feel her warmth, her presence.

But she was gone.

Placing the framed photo back, I sank to my knees and closed my eyes. I prayed for strength. I prayed for guidance. I prayed for the courage to face each day without her.