When you get close …
Let me start by saying I’m a firm believer in people coming back to visit the ones they loved after they’ve died.
My grandmother believed it, and I guess she passed it on to me. Her sister, Eunice came to her when she was dying to tell her it was OK. I remember my father thinking it was pretty bizarre, but I think she did see her sister.
After my sister died, I had several incredibly vivid dreams about her, and I believe we were speaking. Ellen and I always had a strong connection.
The first time she came to me was to tell me to finish a tablecloth she had been making the way she wanted me to. We used to debate whether pieces of a project should be stitched together or crocheted. I started to crochet the pieces to a tablecloth she had started, and when I went to sleep that night, there she was, hands on hips.
“It’s my project, dammit! Use the tapestry needle, not the crochet hook!”
I switched to the needle.
The next time, I walked into her living room in another vivid dream and there she was, sitting on the couch. When I spoke to her, she sat bolt upright and grinned.
“You can see me! You can hear me!”
I said I could, but I wondered what she was doing there.
“Katherine (her spouse) still needs me,” she said. “I have to stay here awhile.”
When Shannon and I were at the house a couple months later, she told me she could feel her mother’s presence there.
The third time, I dreamed I was cleaning up after a huge, messy party, and Ellen showed up to help me. She was healthy and her old irreverent self. A friend of mine walked in and I introduced her.
“I thought she was dead,” he said.
“I am,” she said, grinning. “But I’m always here to help you.”
That was just before Mike’s pain came back.
The night before he died, we talked about Ellen coming to fetch him home. I could see her pushing angels aside.
“He’s my nephew, dammit. I’ll get him.”
And so she did. Just before he died, he reached out and called her name.
Two weeks later, James asked me if Mike had come to visit me.
“No, he said you’d need him more,” I said.
Well, he had been to visit James three times. I never told James about the third time Ellen came to see me, but his dream was nearly identical,as though Ellen had told him what to say.
“It comforted your mother,” she probably told him. “I’m sure it will help James.”
Early this morning, he came to talk to me. He was healthy and whole again, wearing blue jeans, as he did before he got sick, and a T-shirt. His teeth were white again, like they were before chemo, and his skin clear.
We talked about how much I miss him, and how hard I’m trying to be OK.
I asked if he was OK, and he said he’s at peace.
“When you get close,” he said, “you can tell you really want to go there.”
So, as I assumed, I know now that he is at peace. He is whole and contented.
And I miss him more than I can say.
Patient Pals & Family Friends
Life o' Mike has a new peer support program for people newly diagnosed with chronic or serious illness or with a new disability and their caregivers.
Patient Pals are people who have experience with various illnesses and disabilities, who can help someone newly diagnosed or with a new disability work through the fear, frustration, confusion and grief often experienced in the first few months.
Family Friends are there to help caregivers and other family members grow into their new role.
People with new illness or disability fare better when they have a role model -- someone who can help them negotiate their new path in life.
We need volunteers, who are asked to donate a minimum of one hour a week. Training is free and includes information on active listening, ways to help and when to know more help is needed.
And of course, we need funding.
To learn more, call Leslie Boyd at 828-243-6712 or e-mail lifeomike@gmail.com.
When Mike went to live at your house, I stopped worrying about him. Even though we all knew he was going to die any day, I knew he would be ok. Mike was at peace and handling the situation better than all of us. I was far more worried about everyone he was going to leave behind. He was the one losing his life, but he was the one to comfort me and everyone else. I told him before he left for your house how upset I was over the things he’s never had a chance to do. It just seemed so incredibly unfair.
But Mike told me not to be upset over his loss. He wasn’t. “I had a hell of a life. Sure there’s things I would have liked to do. But I don’t have any regrets,” he told me. When I found out his death was imminent, I just looked at him and he said, “I had fun. Did you have fun?” And in that one moment, Mike turned my sadness into laughter.
I had a dream about him almost a month ago. In the dream, he was still dead but he looked like he did before he was sick. I thought I was going crazy and asked people around me if they could see and hear him too. They looked at me like I had three heads and told me of course they could see him. I can’t remember much else about the dream. I know that when I woke up, I just felt at peace.
I have to say, even though I never had a chance to “see” my mother again after she left us, it gave me a lot of peace to know that she visited my Auntie Leslie. It made it easier for me knowing that she was okay and in a good place. When Leslie told me that she had “seen” Mike, I had that same burst of peaceful feeling. I’m glad she was able to see and talk to him… I know she needed it. I still get sad and teary thinking of my Mom and of Mike, but just knowing that they’re all right and keeping an eye on things helps me to get through the tough patches. Belief can be powerful.
I haven’t had a dream about Mike, but I think he visited me. Last month I was having a rough night, couldn’t sleep and so I went into my office and printed off resumes. that night I had two working lamps. I went to bed, I prayed to God and then I asked Mike if he was okay and if he was at peace. The next night I go into my office, I flick on the light and only one lamp is working. So, I’m thinking that maybe my cat at wriggled the plug loose or the lightbulb burst. But I go over to my lamp and there is no lightbulb! So, I called my mom who had been at the house earlier that day. She balked “Why would I take your lightbulb??” She asked my sister and her boyfriend if they had taken it, and they said no. I called my father, who was in Canada and would have in no way taken my lightbulb, and he too had not taken my lightbulb.
Why would Mike take my lightbulb? Besides to make me sound crazy to everyone who passes by…When we all lived in Savannah I had him come over and change my lightbulbs in my ceilings lamps because I hated getting on ladders and he could reach them better than I could. I’ve asked for the lightbulb back. But I haven’t had it returned.