The Little Girl in the White Communion Dress

What is real in our lives?  Do we live in reality or do we pretend how we wish life to be?    Sometimes we fool ourselves, don't we?  Eluding that the situation is okay, when  it's not.  Perhaps if we don't talk about IT or look "IT" straight in the face, then we think everything is fine.....no problems......no one needs to know.  Some of us talk about the issues, whatever that might be, while others don't, and they push that pain all the way deep down inside, never dealing with it.  One has to face it at some point....the insanity, the craziness, the strangeness of it all.  It's like being in a dramatic thriller movie, and not quite sure when or where the climax will occur. You're anxiously waiting for something to happen, but really not wanting to face it.  You could relate these thoughts with any aspect of  your own life, but I'm referring to the hallucinations or realities of our dear loved ones.

Everyday is different for a person who faces a terminal or chronic illness.  When their time to eternal rest approaches, their dreams and fears become a reality for them.  The patients with the cancers, the mental illnesses, the terminal diseases; they all have a common thread.   They all have visions at some part of their journey.  In our minds, they seem to be an illusion, but who are we to know?  Quite possibly, they could be seeing a person from the other side.  Why not?  During my dad's cancer, I used to think it was the medicine or the disease effecting his brain.  With Chrissy, I truly believed in some of her visions; not the paranoia, but the visions, even though I couldn't see them.  Her visions could have been a glimpse of the after life.....seeing people in her room.  We couldn't see them, but maybe she saw more than we'll ever know.  When someone is getting closer to the end of their earthly life, I think the guiding angels surround them.....even ones they may not recognize.

With the upcoming event of my Luke's First Communion, I am reminded of a  time in our lives back in '76....hearing of the little girl in the white communion dress.   Some of us in the family may wish to forget some of those memories, but that was our world.  This particular memory was told to me by my sister, Deni, and and my brother,Curt..   Trying to find that little girl for my dad, and chasing her out of our backyard was what they were told to do.  They never saw her but he did.  I have learned that all experiences, whether pleasant or not, lead us to the next door of our journey.  I'm learning to face those fears, those painful memories whether I want to or not.  Our soul depends on those experiences, and I am learning to accept.....sometimes kicking and screaming....but I am learning.  To experience is to learn; to learn is to grow, and grow I must. 

Hospitals were common place to us when I was younger.  With those hospital visits came the treatments, the medications, the tears, the gut wrenching frustrations and the hallucinations....my dad's hallucinations.  Some, I was shielded from by family members, while others I was not.   As a little girl, my fears were that my dad would approach me with something that didn't make sense, something that wasn't real or visible to me.  Some days he did, and it was awkward, but I made it through.  Now I realize Jesus was with me all along during those difficult days.  I don't know if dad's dilusions stemmed from the medicines he ingested or from the side-effects of the tumor pressing on his brain.  Either way, it was a memory that was brought back to life when Chrissy herself traveled her own path.....her destiny with breast cancer.  I relived those uncertain times as I watched Chrissy talk with Maria and Frankie, watching the the same hallucinations that my dad had confronted.  Now, IT had rested upon her bed, too.

I don't recall my sister wearing her communion dress, but I do remember her First Communion because it took place in the house where we grew up.  Right there in our living room, Chrissy would present to her daddy the greatest gift of all.  It was around late winter, early spring of 1976.   First Communions usually occur in April or May, but I suppose the family knew that dad wasn't going to be with us that long.   Chrissy's First Communion was an early surprise for my dad and the rest of the family.  Dad's health was progressively becoming worse, but he was to witness one last special gift that would last a lifetime.  Mom and Sr. Kenneth, our school principal, along with all the higher ups had arranged for this emotional moment to happen.  That night the vision became my dad's reality........seeing Chrissy's First Communion.   I don't know who my dad saw that day in our backyard..........an illusion or a little girl in her white communion dress.  I can only imagine what he saw on that morning of my sister's passing to her new life with them.  Perhaps then he really did see HIS little girl in her white communion dress.

"How we see depends on our perceptions of what life is to be"