A Dream I have been waiting for....

I wanted to document this dream this morning but have not had time to sit down and put it to words.  I have thought about it a lot and told it to Patric, but even as the day passes, the vividness of the dream does, too.  

It seemed so real.  Unbelievable, yet real.  We were in the hospital as we had received word from the doctors, I guess, that Chase was finally improving--like he had been comatose or something.    We were in the hospital, though, and I was in a hospital gown, still recovering or something.  I saw him open his eyes in the isolette and I hobbled over to him as quickly as I could.  But he was his age now, 1 1/2.  He was bigger, his hair was a little longer, a little curly.  His eyes were opened and I was so happy.  He was laying there and he looked at me and said "mommy" and I was just so happy.  Already, my recollection is choppy but we got to hold him.  He had only a couple tubes coming out of his chest, so we had to be careful, but he was very strong, actually completely normal if it weren't for the 2 little tubes.  It was just so wonderful to be holding him and talking to him and kissing and hugging him.  I don't remember where the dream led to, but what was really weird, was that each time he met or saw someone for the first time, he already knew them.  He would say their name before they would speak. He already knew everyone in our family yet we had not seen him since he was born.   I wanted so badly to take a picture of him but I didn't have my camera.  I wanted to take a picture of him on my phone and send him to my friends but I couldn't get it to work.  This was just to bizarre but it was so real and it was so wonderful that we got him back.  The dream moved on and I don't think we were in the hospital anymore.  It amazed me so much that he already knew us.  And then I asked him if he knew God and he said, "yes".  Like he just came from there or something.  

This is the last thing I remember before waking up abruptly.  I was so sad to realize this was a dream.  I could have cried had I not been half asleep and too exhausted to.  I went to the bathroom in a daze and returned to bed making myself resume this wonderful dream.  I just wanted to see Chase again.  And I did. I went back to dreaming this wonderful, amazing dream of having him back with us but this time in the dream, I knew I would wake up eventually.  This time I knew it was only a dream.  But it was finally the dream I had been waiting for.

Visiting Chase's Grave

We visited Chase's grave this week. It was a six hour drive returning to a place that would remind us so acutely of a time of deep pain and anguish. The weather was grey and gloomy the entire trip and even if we wanted to, we would not be able to set the monument for Chase. The sancrete would never have dried with the constant drizzle. We paid our respects regardless and arranged and re-arranged the flowers we had brought for him, from us and both his grandmas. As if we were "fixing" them for him, like a parent always feels we must do. Something to busy our hands, I guess. The rain was persistent, but not obtrusive. We were able to have a good visit, if that is possible. For a moment, maybe two minutes, while Patric and I were alone at his grave and the kids were in the car, the sun poked through the clouds. It was so magical how this happened. I wish I would have pointed my camera up and just snapped a shot, in hopes that I might have deciphered something later that I couldn't comprehend in that moment. If ever I have felt it, though, it was Chase speaking to us. Looking down on us tell us he was okay.

Patric and I have had several deep conversations lately about him and where we each think he is or what he is or just what we think period. And in those conversations I have been comforted in a way only my soulmate could comfort me. It turns out that we have both been feeling Chase's presence in and around us. There have been specific moments and specific feelings, however indescribable they are, that we have communicated to each other and felt the same thing.

We are not on the same path in our journey as we were in the beginning. Patric is seeking different things that I am right now. He is comforted in different ways than I am. We feel very much the same on a lot of things, and we are both searching, but searching for different answers and different explanations. I had received several texts and emails and cards and even some packages in the mail leading up to and on Chase's birthday. My sisters, in particular, sent me some very, very touching gifts that mean so very much to me and remind me how exactly my little boy touched their lives as well. Friends of ours from all over the country sent texts, to my phone, letting us know that we were in their thoughts and offering any help that me might need to get through this last week. It wasn't until we were in bed Wednesday night laying, waiting, to fall asleep, that I realized that Patric hadn't personally received any of these things that I had. No texts, no emails, no phone calls, no package. Nothing. Nothing specifically directed to him. I know he didn't expect this, he's really not the type to even want something on an occasion like this. It is comforting to him to see that I have family and friends in my life that care enough to do this for me. But as his wife, I want to just cover him up with love from me and the kids...in hopes that he feels just as loved as we do. I know men grieve differently and have different needs in grief but it doesn't stop me from wanting to protect his feelings with some sort of force field of love from us to try to equal that which I feel. The truth is I know he has more of that from us than he ever bargained for and that's really all he will ever need. But in a time of such pain and suffering I want to make it better for him when I can't.

Returning to Chase's grave this week stirred up a lot of emotions I hadn't felt for a long time. The pain felt raw and the wound felt very fresh. It did for all of us, you could see it, hear it, and feel it from the girls as they cried from their bellies, quivering from their sobs, missing their baby brother so dearly. My anger came back. I became very mad again, like it had all just happened, recalling in my head how the events throughout those days transpired, wishing things had been done differently. So desperately wishing I had done something when I knew I should.

But this visit was about Chase and thinking about him. And I have been working on/thinking about this a lot lately....my vision of my sweet baby boy. God how I miss you sweet Chase. I can't begin to tell you how much. But I want you to have fun up there...and enjoy this birthday and all those to come...and one day, we will all be together again. I love you.

Conversations with a 4-year-old...

Reese and I picked up a little buddy of his for a play date today (read: so mommy can get some work done) and as we incidentally drove by the only cemetary in town, he told his friend, "that's where they bury people who die." I don't know why, other than for conversation and he was so excited for his play date, Reese brought this up. We drove by the cemetery at least two more times throughout the day and our on our final trip home, and again seeing the cemetery, our conversation went something like this...

Reese: Mom, does God have a TV up there in his house?
Mom: Hmmm. I don't know buddy. Do you think he does? I think there are better things than TV up there.
Reese: Mom, what does God look like?
Mom: Do you remember the picture on the program for Chase's funeral?
Reese: No. Does he look like a ghost?
Mom: You mean like you can see through him?
Reese: Yeah.
Mom: I don't know, buddy. Everyone has their own idea of what God looks like. I think he looks like a normal person though, but extra kind, very gentle. Just a really nice person I guess.
Reese: Mom, are we gonna go to Heaven?
Mom: You mean like for a little while...or forever?
Reese: Yeah.
Mom: Well, babe, everyone goes to Heaven. But I don't think you have to think about that for a long time. Not 'til you get older, a lot older.
Reese: Mom, can we see Chasey?
Mom: I wish we could, buddy......I miss him. A lot. What would you do if you saw Chase?
Reese: (Quiet.)
Mom: Would you give him a hug....and then ask him if he wanted to race?
Reese: Yeah, I would.

Oh, man. How it hurts to talk about this. I can't believe this is Reese's "normal". I hate that he has to grow up like this. I have really felt the affect on Reese's life in particular lately. How big of an impact Chase would have on Reese. I think about it or talk about it to Patric every day. This is the first time Reese has ever been home with us alone. It started out special--just time with us. But after that has worn off, it has been just torture. I know he loves to be home with us. But he misses his sisters, who were home with him last year. Then before that, Emma was home being homeschooled by herself; before that, Karly was home and played with him all the time. This has been something completely new for me, having just one kid to tend to. And he doesn't like having to "wait" for me to get to him. I hate getting frustrated with his begging to play, do this, do that. But I do. And I know Chase would have made things so different. For all of us. It's hard to imagine the impact another child is going to put on your life. But it's agonizing to have to live with their absence. To say we miss him does not do it justice.