Many people believe that the dead are able to visit us through dreams. I’m skeptical but open-minded, and this works for me. In the hours after Don died, he visited a little girl in our church. She didn’t know yet that he had died (her mother told her in the morning when she woke up). She saw Don in CVS buying metallic nail polish.
A day or two later, another friend saw Don in a dream. He was starring in a big production number. Perhaps that’s why he needed the metallic nail polish. Since then he’s visited a few other friends, as well.
I’ve also had several visits. When my son Sean died, he came to me the next night in a dream, but it was too soon for me. I was so upset that even in the dream I was grieving. So then he didn’t visit again for a long time, instead visiting other people. But it’s been different with Don.
Don’s last month was difficult. He was in constant discomfort and frequently in pain. He’d become very weak and could do very little for himself. He was in and out of the hospital. Everyone tried to make him as comfortable as possible, but we just could never seem to get ahead of the curve.
So here’s the thing. Every time Don has visited me in dreams, he’s been happy. Every time. OK, this morning he was getting a little frustrated with me. But he was still happy.
Sometimes he’s just with me. Sometimes he’s clearly supporting me. This morning he was definitely supporting me. I was lost. I was taking wrong turns. I was getting lost. I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. But Don was there with me. He was being patient with me, even though I could tell that he was getting a bit frustrated.
Don has always been my strongest supporter. I feel like he’s still doing that. Sometimes I need to go to sleep to remember that.
When I woke up this morning, as with most mornings after I’ve seen Don in my dreams, I was happy. Happier, anyway. Perhaps it was the reminder of being closer to Don that made me hunger for God’s presence. One of the ways I experience closeness to God is through communion, and I remembered that I could go to the National Cathedral for a eucharist service, as the Cathedral has an open table policy. So I drove into D.C. and went to the noon eucharist service today. It’s been a long time since I’ve had communion, and it was good.
I miss Don. I do feel lonely. But just as I know God is always with me, whether I feel God’s presence or not, I believe Don is, too. I can often find him in my dreams, and now he’s happy, so how can I be sad?
That’s it, that’s my mite. It’s all I’ve got.