Grateful Heart Amongst Healing People

If you are one who is grieving right now, my one piece of advice is to surround yourself with healing people.  Healing people are those who listen without judgement, they are empathetic without trying to cure you, and ultimately they listen completely without talking and they give of themselves.  There are people in my life who do just that, and I want to say "thank you".  Thank you for understanding, thank you for your patience, and thank you for allowing me to grieve.  There are no rules, no certain way, but complete healing people are listeners with a sincere heart, a giver of hugs, and a lender of their loving thoughts without telling me what to do.  I know I will not feel this way forever; feeling the sadness and loss of my sister.  One day joy will reign prevalent in my heart, but for now it's a distant word in my vocabulary.  That doesn't mean I am not thankful for the blessings that surround me.......my family, my friends, my health and my faith.   Love from my husband and children sustains me right now as I try to overcome the sadness in my heart.  How can one person impact another so much?  She did mine, my sister, and I am trying to see the world now with different eyes, with a new canvas if you will.  I feel as though my vision is blinded, and I am trying to imagine the world with love, hope and joy.  

Some days I live.......I truly live feeling her presence and constant guidance beside me.  Some days a smile will find its way upon my face.  I will think of her and smile, and there aren't any set times or reasons.  Perhaps when I'm choosing an item at the store, hearing a familiar song, eating a lucious dinner or watching her daughter, Maria, play as Chrissy did when she was that age.  Other days are very difficult, feeling her spirit, trying to find my path, living this new way, watching her children trying to find their way as well.  Some days when I see her children ache for her presence, then I'm at a loss as to what this is all about.  I say in my journaling that when a deep loss is experienced, it is felt strongly and one never thinks it will go away.  It doesn't truly ever go away; it's always a part of our new life, whatever transformations takes place, but the intensity I know will change, and you learn to live along with it.  I know that through my own parents' deaths, and I am now learning to live with it through my own sister's death.  My sister will always be there for me, but now in a new way, and I suppose those who knew her well...feel it, too.  As each day ends and another one begins, I look for strength to make my life better......to make myself a better person.  Sometimes the healing people are my driving force and for that I am grateful.  They ask questions and listen, they truly hear my cries, they give support through kind emails and letters without expecting a response, and they never question where I am in this journey.....always offering support in thought, words or deeds .  Their support is also shown in their continuous efforts such as recognizing the Komen Race, participating in the Relays for Life or making donations in memory of my sister to their favorite charities along with the trails of notes, cards, emails and asking a genuine "how are you?"  You healing people, my healing souls, you give me fortitude, always letting me know that you are there, thinking about my family.  Those of you who offer to pick up my sister's children, sending your meals, lending your time and offering a helping hand..........you are the ones.  As my mom used to say many times,  "Your reward will be in heaven." 

I believe this question will be asked of us in the world that lies beyond this, "What did you do for another and what  truly lies in your heart?"  Our God knows what is in your heart, each and every one of you.  Thank you for your constant efforts in making the life of another person or persons your priority, when in a world of craziness, you are taking  the time.  Chrissy was humbled by the support given to her and her family during her ailing days.  In her final weeks of breathing life, she wanted me to extend to all her upmost gratitude.  She physically wasn't capable, but she tried to care for her home, her children, her husband.  There were times she didn't want to accept the outpouring of devotion, as she wanted to do it herself.  As most of us realize, it is much easier to give than to receive, but in accepting the help, I believe she gave to all of us maturity in our own soul's journey.   Peace, hope and gratefulness.......from one heart to our special healing people who  rise up in giving. 

When you have learned how to decide with God, all decisions become as easy and as right as breathing. There is no effort, and you will be led as gently as if you were being carried down a quiet path in summer.  In choosing to give of ourselves, we decide with God.

In My Dreams

Dreams are messages that either move the heart or at times frighten and surprise us.  Many a mornings I look over at Marty and say, "Where the heck did that dream come from????"   On most mornings I wake up not remembering anything.  I've read a few books lately by those who have lost their loved ones in death, and all of them say that it took a long time before they dreamt of their loved ones....sometimes months and even years.  There are no clear reasons why this happens.  Perhaps our emotions shut down and somehow protect us from the deep sadness, allowing our hearts to forget.  Some say the trauma of the illness, the death blocks anything about our loved one to enter into our hearts at night.  Some theories are that our emotions are so shocked by death that it blocks that spiritual energy.....even when our loved ones are trying to contact us through our dreams.  It sounds unbelievable, but I have no doubt that my loved ones have shown up at some time or other trying to talk with me.  I wish it happened more frequently, but don't we always wish there would be more time with them them?  I think we're always asking for more time....whether it's being here with us or being present in our  in our dreams.   Maybe we dream about them more than we can remember.

In my life's experiences, I have found it frustrating not to have more visits in my dreams by those that have died, especially mom, dad, grandma and now Chrissy.  Strangely, what seems prevalent in my dreams is finding that the deceased member doesn't see themselves as deceased.  We miss them, we mourn for them and we long for their presence; yet, it in my dreams, they appear to behave very casual.....like nothing ever happened.  They don't see themselves as dead.  Still, perhaps they know that they are always by our sides; yet, we loose sight of that or feel too much grief to recognize that.  If we believe in what our faith tells us, I suppose there is some truth to that.  I'm convinced there is no time in the world beyond ours.  Every hour without Chrissy here on earth seems like a day to me.   In my thoughts, I tell myself that I've lost her in the physical sense, why can't she materialize in my dreams?  I  relax, pray intently, and still, she doesn't surface.  How is it that people I care about so much don't enter my dreams as much as I would like them?   I don't understand the logic and probably never will, and in this grief it saddens me even more.  The dream factor is a mystery to me as are so many other occurences in life. 

My first recollection of mom turning up in my dreams happened many months, perhaps even a year after her death..  There was a time in my life when I was really concerned about my finances, my personal life......well, everything seemed so unclear and foggy.  One minute she's here and the next she's gone, and we were trying to live a new way yet again.   My dream began by seeing loaves of bread sprawled all over this room.  Every inch of space was covered with fresh loaves of bakery bread.  I looked across the room and there sat my mom, acting like I just saw her an hour ago.  She casually smiled and said, "Barbie, everything will be okay......everything will be okay."   We hugged, she smiled and then disappeared.  I woke up feeling that all would be okay.  From that moment on......I took baby steps, still uncertain but not afraid anymore to move, to live, to explore this world we call life.  

These days as I take baby steps to find my new way, I hope and pray for Chrissy to appear in my dreams.  There was a short dream during the week of her death, but it was unsettling, and since then I hadn't seen her  until recently; the night Frankie spent the night.  It's been about seven months since her death, and she finally decided to show up.   Every night I ask and pray for her to appear in my dreams.....hoping, wishing.......one more real conversation with her.  On this particular night, it wasn't any different than any other night, except that I was looking over Frankie as he dosed off to sleep.   Perhaps it was  little Frankie bringing his mama back for me......I couldn't say....only a thought.  All in this life is a mystery to me, but on this night, she came.   In this dream, I was the one who was getting some sort of medicine intravenously while sitting in a hospital chair.  As I looked at the nurse who was standing in front of me; there she was standing beside the nurse.....Chrissy........smiling at me with a radiance about her......appearing like the size of an extra large doll.  She looked at me like she hadn't been gone that long.....as if I shouldn't be missing her.  It was almost as if she didn't like the attention I was giving her.  On most occasions when one of us would attend social events or be taking a trip, we would bite at the bullet waiting for the details afterwards.  I found myself in this dream yelling the questions,  "Oh my gosh, is that you?  Is that really you??  What is it like???   What happened to you???  Did you meet God?????  I want to know the details.....what happened to you?"   I couldn't get the questions out quick enough to her when I paused,  looked at her, and she beamed from ear to ear without saying anything.  She glanced at me like I was insane and said, "It's all good, Barbie.  It's great, it's all good.  You can't even imagine."   Then I felt as if she was trying to leave the room without me seeing her.....without me missing her.......but my last vision was of her smiling at me.  I woke up in the middle of the night with a smile on my face, and I found myself saying , "Thank you, thats all I needed."

Dreams are a strange phenomenon, aren't they?  It was shortly after my dad's death when we received a phone call from our family friend/relative type:  Betty Pavilege.   Betty was related through marriage on my dad's side of the family, and always meant a great deal to us.  She wasn't related by blood, but she was related in the spirit, and we would see her at Thanksgivings and Easters.  She had sort of a peaceful, clairvoyant presence, a spiritual soul who was very special to our family.  One day I arrived home to hear a message of a dream that Betty had, and she was so lovely to share it on our answering machine.  She'll never know what that meant to me and to my family that particular day.  She went on to say that our dad appeared to her in a dream. She hadn't dreamt of him ever until this day.  Strangely enough, he stood before her drinking a glass of milk.  It seemed odd to her that he would be doing that.  He was smiling and continued drinking a glass of milk, and she felt him saying to her that he was doing okay.  She didn't know why he was standing there and drinking.....milk....smiling and telling her he was doing great?   Why was he standing there drinking milk?  She said it was so vivid and perplexing that she felt a strong urge to share that with us......for whatever reason she knew it was important to call us and share that strange detail in her dream.  Never before have I known Betty to call our house.  What most people didn't know about my dad was that he had an ulcer and would often drink milk to ease the pain.  I don't think he drank milk anywhere else but at home.  He didn't like people knowing his shortcomings, and I suppose in his mind, having an ulcer showed a shortcoming.......a weakness.  She wasn't aware that he had an ulcer,  but she insisted that she felt my dad urging her to contact us and relay that he was doing well.

Whether it be with age or with this grief, I rarely remember my dreams anymore.  When I do remember them, they don't  make any sense.  On that night when I dreamt of her; it made sense.  It gave me hope and peace......if only for the next day or two......and then I pray for another visit from her or mom or dad.  We always want more, don't we?  Always wanting more time......more hope.....more dreams of her.......more dreams of all my loved ones.  Anyone who misses their cherished ones to the depths of their being knows what that dream meant to me.  It will not change the emptiness I feel......nor fill the hollowness that sleeps in the shadows of my heart, but that dream gave me new hope.  Hoping that she is happy, fulfilled, elated and awaiting for the day when we will meet again.  That was a night I will remember for days, months and even years.  I will wait for her to appear again......if only in my dreams.

"Good things come to those who wait"

How to Eat an Elephant

I read a brief story about a woman, Beverly Johnson, who was the first woman to reach the peak of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park, California.  It took her 10 days, with very little sleep, struggling, uncertainty ahead, alone, except for one thing......she knew God was by her side.  When asked how she did it, she said,  "It was like eating an elephant; I did it one bite at a time."   She didn't focus on the what if or what will I do or what will happen when.......she focused on each step in her climb until she reached her goal.

We all have a certain climb in our life.  Even Chrissy struggled in her climb, but what I admired most was watching her continue on no matter what she had to deal with in this cancer climb.  She cried, she screamed, she questioned......she did all that, but she never stopped.  She lived her life with clarity and didn't live a lie as so many often do.  All of us have skeletons in the closet and sometimes some of us spend a lifetime trying to conquer them.  Some have chosen to cover them up or avoid them, thinking it will go away because it's too painful.  Perhaps for some, those skeletons keep us from attaining certain goals in our life.  I've known some who totally avoid them, and they deal with the negativities that manifest into their own personal lives.  It takes hold of them like a prisoner.  Some are living a lie, pretending, because facing their past choices or living the present choices are too painful to escape.  I liked this story of Beverly who faced an enormous task, but she did it one step at a time knowing ultimately that she could only do it with His help.  It's easy to forget God in the pain and turmoil because sometimes life is so intense.   How can God be by our side when I feel so bad or have to deal with these problems?   I've even thought this myself, but then I prefer to know that He is by my side rather than not.  For me, it makes life more bearable than if I thought I was doing it alone.  That elephant could be anything from an alcohol or drug addiction, a spiritual void, a personal relationship, your family, a test, a task, a character flaw, your job, a death, your focus.  Whatever that elephant is, I think what's important is that we face it one step at a time.  That doesn't mean we can't cry, grieve or feel the emotions during our climb.  As long as we don't avoid it or let it consume our lives to the point where the rest of our life is in disarray.  The point is to deal with the elephant rather than try to stuff it away.....you can't.....it will burst at some point.  I've known some who have had all the best in life materially.......the perfect family, the job, the house, the money, the trips, the best schools, the religion halo only to have their life shatter as drugs, alcohol, the infidelity, the lie or anger consume their lives.   We think as humans we aren't allowed to falter, but through my own life experiences I have seen more of what others do not.  Beyond the suffering that is; I have seen beauty, purpose and flashes of God that others never see .  Perhaps through death, no matter how painful, the ultimate blessing is to understand more, live better, be more open about what I see and experience through life's painful moments.  From the outside, it might seem that those who are grieving are missing out, and sometimes that may be the case, but mostly those who are grieving are learning, understanding, changing, seeing more than most know or can even comprehend.  I've known some who have lost a child through death, and in my book, there are no rules, their journey is their own and should be given room to do so, without question.  In all loss, it is that person's journey alone, and each has their own way.  I believe we are all children of God, living here to learn, grow, understand and return.........return to where we began.  We never die in spirit, that energy is always there, but some of us are living in death even as our bodies still breathe.  That my friends is the ultimate death, and a complete tragedy.  It is our responsibility  to recognize if it is happening in ourselves,  for our own spritiual growth.  One bite at a time; we need to see it, take hold of it, stop the lie if need be, and live life one step at a time knowing that God is by our side.

"It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man"
    -Psalm 118:8

Who is That?

When we were kids, mom seemed to run into most anybody when we were out and about running errands. Whether it was someone from church, our school, her high school days or possibly someone from our extended family; we always seemed to meet a familiar face.  Often times as they would leave after talking for awhile, I would ask, "Who is that?"  She would give me the run down of how she knew them.   I'll never forget that infamous statement made by many of those familiar faces, pointing to me as they would say,  "That's Betty Lou"......which by the way was my mom's name growing up.  I took it as a compliment because to me my mom was beautiful.......more beautiful than any mom I knew.  She was the best and no other mom could hold a candle to her.  While we were growing up, she always seemed so put together when it came to her appearance...makeup just right, nails glued and painted, her Este Lauder perfume permeated the air and her bluish, sometimes green-toned eyes sparkled.  Still, as a child, I was confused when someone would compare me to mom.  We didn't seem anything alike.  Our eyes seemed different, our hair length was just the opposite, mom was outgoing and I felt so shy and awkward, and she was just great!   It wasn't until I was into my later teens, looking at old photographs, that I noticed a photo that looked like me as a child, but the quality of the paper was much older, way before my time.  It was a professional photo of my mom, probably around the age of five or six,  and I saw me in her.  It was like an "aha" moment when I finally saw the resemblence of me and my mom like so many old friends and family had mentioned before as I was growing up.

When Chrissy was nearing her time, to go beyond this earthly world, I had hoped she would see mom in her room, but while I was in the room, it never seemed to happen....atleast not in the way I had expected.  Chrissy was having difficulty speaking during her last weeks due to the medications and her disease.  The disease was taking its toll on her body as cancer often does as the body is slowly winding down.   Perhaps she did see my mom but wasn't able to verbalize it.  I believe, though, that there were others or another in the room for sure.  One particular morning, as I was sitting on her bed, only the nurse's aide walked near us when Chrissy whispered to me, "Who is that?"  At first I thought she meant the nurse's aide, and I responded, "That's Cheryl."  She replied, "No, not her, that other person standing over there, who is that?"  As she whispered to me and looked beyond Cheryl, she pointed to her own eye, as if the person she was speaking of, standing in the room had something noticeable about her/his eye(s).  I asked what this person looked like and all Chrissy did was point to her own eyes in a somewhat suspicious  way.  At that moment, words escaped me, because if I mentioned angels, then perhaps that would scare her.....thinking that angel was coming to take her.  Another thought was that the medication was working over-time on her, invading suspicious visions into her brain.  As I sat there a few moments longer, I felt it could have been our mom.  "I think it's mom looking over you," I answered, with a slight crack in my voice.  It had been a long time since Chrissy and I had physically seen her, and much of Chrissy's memory was seeing my mother's ailing body.  The sick years had a taken a toll on my mom's body along with her sparkling eyes during Chrissy's childhood.  Maybe those tired eyes of my mom's that Chrissy was used to seeing while she was alive were now shining brightly on that morning, so bright, that all Chrissy could mimic were her eyes.  She remained silent and continued to stare for a few minutes in that direction.  I can't say for sure who that was that she saw on that morning, but without any hesitation, I believe it was either my mom or one of her angels looking upon her.  I could feel the energy in the room many times, not only on that day, but many times during her illness.   We may wonder who that could have been, and I can only say it was love, whether from someone she once knew or someone who has always known her......it was love.

"Love one another as I have loved you"