Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Last night, I had a dream. A vivid dream. A dream of Bennett.
Bennett was back in my arms. I knew he had passed away but he had miraculously returned and I - appreciating him more than ever - held him closer and kissed him more than ever before (and THAT is saying A LOT). Things were better than ever and everything was back to normal.
Except for one thing. He didn't have any arms.
In the dream, I remember trying to give Bennett a dum dum sucker (one of his favorite treats) but not knowing whether to just put it in his mouth or hold it for him. This was a whole new challenge.
But I was eager to take on this challenge. Willingly and happily. Having him - in any form or condition - was better than not having him at all. I was grateful to hold him in my arms and cuddle him all the more. My heart felt whole once more and all was well in the world.
Since I awoke this morning, I've been thinking about (what was unfortunately just) my dream last night. Though it was a bit strange in hindsight, it seemed quite realistic at the time (aren't all dreams like that?). Though I don't believe ALL dreams have meaning, I believe that this one held particular significance for me.
Since his birth, Bennett has touched many with his amazingly loving, gentle and generous spirit. I remember one of my dearest friends coming to see him when he was only a few months old. When she held him for the first time, she began crying. "He is so special!" she said. "I can just feel the strength of his spirit as I look at him!" I knew this and his father had felt it as well. We knew this was an incredible human being with an amazing mission ahead but it was quite surreal to hear it from someone who had no previous experience with him. He was THAT powerful.
As Bennett's Mother, I would often wonder what the Lord had in mind for this little boy. What would he bring to the world? What was his mission? And what could I do to prepare him for his journey? I felt humbled and honored to be called to the task and to be a part of his precious life.
Enter January 22, 2011. Bennett suddenly passed away to the stunned amazement of us all. It was as if the air was completely knocked out of our lungs. What? When? How? It just didn't make sense! And to this day - almost three months later - we don't have a lot of answers. A lot of physical answers, that is. And I don't know if we ever will.
But this is what we are finding out. Bennett did have a mission. Both here and on the other side. And he fulfilled it here and is continuing to fill it there. But there is a part of his mission that continues to involve us, his loved ones that - for a time - have been left behind. We have been called to carry on his legacy and tell his story. His is a story of Love. His is a story of Light. And His is a story of Laughter. Now we are here to write the remaining chapters.
What will they be? Will they be filled with Hope, Faith, Gratitude and Joy? Or will they tainted tales of Bitterness, Anger and Resentment? Right now, we are his hands. We are here to tell the story he cannot tell. And we are hear to spread the message his sweet lips will not utter in this life.
But tell it we will. And we will not stop until everyone knows our story of Hope, understands our reason for Joy and is comforted with the news that Death is NOT the end. We WILL see our sweet children again. No goodbyes, just see you later's. That's our motto. And Later won't come soon enough.
So tonight, I recommit to telling our Sweet Bennett story once more. I have not chosen this path. It was chosen for me. And I feel called to share this message.
And share it I will.
I will be Bennett's hands and I will share our sweet story of Faith, Hope and Joy despite heartache, despite loss and in the face of profound grief and sorrow. And we will prevail. We will. And as a team, we will do what we need to do to be together again. Cause there ain't nothin' better than that.
Time for bed. 'Nigh 'nigh (as Bennett would say). And Sweet Dreams.