November 22: A Dream

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I came around the corner, from family room into living room, and there he was, sitting on the left end of the couch in front of the big picture window. He was smaller – perhaps 10?  I was surprised and yet not overwhelmed by the fact that he was here.

I did know, in some part of my subconscious, that it was odd, so I said, “what are you doing here?!” and although I do not know if he ever actually spoke, he seemed to convey back “what do you mean what am I doing here? Where else would I be?”

So as he looked at me a bit quizzically, I told him, in a halting, gentle way, that…well…that he’d died and we’d had a funeral with so, so many of his friends there. I showed him the blue memorial wristband on my arm, I talked about the choir singing – his choir, full of so many people who love him – and how 50 alumni had come back to sing, to sing for him and for us, through their tears.  I remember gripping his right forearm at some point, and it felt real…I remember the physical sensation of his skin, which has always been a little hard, a little rough, even when he was a baby. Continuing in my explanation, trying to help him understand, I said, “there’s your urn, there, in front of the fireplace” but when I gestured toward that spot, just to my left as I knelt in front of him, the urn wasn’t there. It was gone.

He seemed unaffected, as if to say “well, um…I’m here, so why are we having this conversation…?”

And then I woke up.


God is our refuge and strength [mighty and impenetrable to temptation], a very present and well-proved help in trouble.                                     Psalm 46:1 (AMP)

…in my distress I called out to the Lord…from His temple he heard my voice…He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me.                             2 Samuel 22: 7, 20

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