I believe in Heaven with all my heart.
I firmly believe we all rise to our next life when we die to be with Jesus and our loved ones who have passed before us.
And I know my mother’s having a blast up there since she passed on June 13th this year.
When my father died in 1997, he “visited” me three days later in a dream. It was to comfort me, to tell me he was okay. I appreciated that, and have had many such dreams in the eighteen years since. We have long conversations and fun visits in my dreams. I know some folks might think it was self-soothing or wishful thinking, but I really think my father’s reaching out to me. I still miss him so much, and I feel him in my everyday life—all the time.
But my mother hasn’t shown up in my dreams for seven long weeks. I kept praying for a dream that would reconnect us. But she didn’t come through. Until last night.
My mother, sister and I walked along a winding dirt road in the woods. It was beautiful, and somehow I knew I’d been there before. I thought maybe I’d ridden horses on it in my past, and kept trying to figure it out. My mother walked along with healthy strides, and to my surprise, she looked like the teenage picture we discovered of her in all the photos that we’d never seen from her basement. Long dark hair, curled so prettily, a lovely face with bright blue eyes…Tall and slim, she was dressed to the nines, with a dark skirt and fitted jacket. Very stylish, don’t-you-know?
We approached a river that flooded over the road. It was deep, churning, and a little bit scary. My sister and I swam across it, and looked back at my mother, who hadn’t yet reached the crossing. We grew nervous, wondering if she would be able to make it. And then we both decided that, yes, she could do it. And she did.
She easily crossed over, just before a big turquoise tidal wave crested and rolled over. We watched it, but it didn’t harm us.
Then we ended up in a cafeteria-style restaurant looking at quinoa and lentil something or other, and I had to find a bathroom. Okay, so that part comes in all my dreams. LOL.
I think this dream was her way of telling us it is okay to move past the horrible, paralyzing grief that has gripped us in its clutches since she passed. She wants us to move past that river, to embrace life, to try to find happiness and joy again.
I can’t promise that the pain will lessen so quickly, as a matter of fact, I know it will take years and years. I now remember why I recognized that long dirt road—it was the path we took when my father died, the road we traveled to come to terms with his leaving us (temporarily, of course). I know we’ll meet again, and I look forward to that reunion with all my heart.
So, Mum. I understand now that you have been having too much fun up in Heaven to come visit me in my dreams, and that’s okay. I’m sure you’ve been reconnecting with loved ones and your beloved animals, that Dad has been cooking you some amazing soups, that you’ve been enjoying Heaven’s weed-free flower gardens, taking long walks with Trixie, and enjoying chatting with your parents and extended family. It’s a good sign that you’re finding your next life incredibly fulfilling and wonderful. So, I forgive you for waiting seven weeks. ;o) And make sure you come back soon, because, damn it, this is really hard.
Aaron Paul Lazar