Heaven Sent

I awoke at precisely 3:09 am smiling ear to ear. I had been holding my Mom's hand and it was wonderfully comforting. The words she spoke were echoing in my head. Strength, encouragement, such familiarity. I stirred around for a moment enjoying how she always lifts me up. Then a sickening feeling washed over me, confusion set in. "Wait a minute," I whispered glancing around my bedroom dimly lit from the hallway. Where is she? Is she here? Oh no, no, no. She's not. But she WAS just here.... wasn't she? Loneliness immediately rushed out the peaceful feeling. It felt as I was reliving her death again. I've dreamed about her only a few times since she passed. But this one, this one was REAL. It couldn't have been a dream. I held her hand, I could FEEL her hugging me. I ran my fingers over her wedding rings as we talked. I told her I couldn't see her, my vision was blurry. She calmly said she is right here. I ask her why I can't see her... my eyes just won't work, she repeats that she is right here. My hand never left hers. I FELT her next to me while we talked. I can't believe it wasn't real! What a cruel trick, I thought. What a mean joke to play on someone feeling the loss now more than ever. I want to return to that dream, I didn't know it wasn't real now I wish it wouldn't have ended. Tears roll down my face now as I think about it. I will never get over her death. It would define who I am today if I let it.

Times have been tough lately. Mentally, physically, financially. I have moments of sheer unrelenting desires to scream "I GIVE UP!!!" until my voice gives way. Then a sweet innocent face will say "Momma" and I remember why I fight so hard to keep our little family together and running. My kids look to their mom just as I looked to my own. We are the "little engine that could" family and have conquered many mountains together already. But I have a struggle that is all my own now. I started reading "Motherless Daughters" in a quest for healing and peace. While I can't say it has sped up healing, there's comfort in numbers even when you feel like the only lost soul. I distantly remember my Mom's pain when her mother passed. It was life altering for her as well. I suppose every woman will be forced into this club at one time or another, kicking and screaming as I have. I mistakenly thought my hardest moment was that storming night and I softly spoke "Go with God Momma" as she took her last breath. I prayed she would not take another. I wanted this fight to end for her. I looked to the clock and announced her time of death. Later, my aunt would ask how I knew that was her last. All I could say was I could feel it. I thought that was the toughest moment of my own life. Little did I know, the worst is actually here and there and strikes with such reverence it forces out my own breath... and hope.

My sister and I have been disconnected as of late, so we set out on a short road trip today, gabbing the whole way. We talked of her growing photography business, our kids, the random updates in our lives. As our chatter slowed, I told her about my dream. The tears mutually started, something we do well together. She said, "Oh, that WAS Mom. She WAS there. She knew you needed her." I nodded in agreement but still wondering if it was just a dream. Hours later, I received disappointing news. I spent all evening frustrated and upset. My sister's words came back. I was shocked at how "spot on" she was and how skeptical I have become. But it just makes sense. There is no other answer. Mom knew I was going to have one of those "Give Up" moments today. She knew my faith has been stretching thin. She knew I needed a reminder that she IS, in fact, still right here. I DID talk to her at three am in the silence of my bedroom. She was here. I hugged her. I held her hand. She told me she loved me. Sometimes my faith drifts. Sometimes I think I'm being tested beyond what a "normal" person can handle. I get frustrated. I get angry. I question everything. Maybe the answer is quite simple. Maybe I've been looking everywhere but at the moment that started a drastic change in my life and ended hers on earth. Maybe the answer is the last thing I spoke to her... "Go with God" in everything- my beliefs, my fears, my worrisome nights, and that's all I need to know. Maybe now it's up to me to believe.


*My little boy (my Mom's "bonus baby") has been sleeping next to me while I blogged. As I finished the last sentence, he awoke, sat up, hugged me and went straight back to sleep. God... and love... works in ways we don't always understand. But if we close our eyes and choose to believe, then it's even more than we ever hoped to see. Thanks Momma Chiquita for sending the hug too.

Love you, miss you, always with you.