Dreaming, Avoiding, Appreciating
Last night I had my second dream about Chandler since he…
It is still just so damn hard to type the word.
In my first dream soon after January 1, Chandler was a little boy.
In last night’s dream, Chandler was 25. Chip and I were somewhere out in public with him. We were walking around, casually chatting. Somehow, I knew that we were alive and he wasn’t. But he was whole, healthy, talkative, charismatic—he was Chandler. The best part…he kept hugging me. He was so full of life. I kept giving him kisses on his dimpled cheek.
Then I woke up.
I like it, I love it, I want some more of it.
I left home early this morning with my dream still on my mind. I made the choice to take the slightly longer route to work. The shorter route takes me past Chandler’s bike memorial. It’s surrounded by flowers and candles left by people showing their love for Chandler and for our family. Sometimes I just don’t want to face the reality of what happened at that spot, so I take the long way.
Throughout the day, my heart was strengthened and encouraged by friends — through texts, calls, emails, and even a Voxer. I needed it. Beneath smiles, laughter, and business as usual, my heart was heavy, IS heavy. The missing is so hard. Memories of Chandler in the hospital, of seeing my kids’ hearts break, of….everything. So hard.
This evening, I stopped by Beach Kids. The mom of one of the kids I did speech therapy for (I will call him Alan) had left something for me. I picked up the pretty pink bag and opened it up — a beautiful moonstone necklace and a precious handmade card from Alan. It melted my heart.
How many ways can I say, “ I am so grateful”? As I look back over the hours since I woke up with Chandler on my mind, I see all those points of encouragement were God’s fingerprints on my day, a day when He knew I would need extra hands carrying me.
Even when the dream doesn’t come true, God is taking care of me…a day at a time.