Fall is definitely in the air. Every fall and spring, the change of the seasons is always welcome. Though I often say that when I retire I am moving to the Caribbean, I don’t know if I could honestly live where the climate temperatures remain consistent throughout the year. For me, the change stirs a sense of wonder, hope, and anticipation. Often times, I find myself nostalgic and reflective. Today was no different. Last night, I dreamed of Chase. I wish I could say that it was one of those good dreams, but it was the typical nightmarish one where he is lost, and I am unable to find him. I know I woke up at least twice with my heart pounding and that sick feeling that is not relieved when one awakes and the reality is worse than the dream. After falling asleep again I dreamed that I would call Chase on his cell phone, knowing he wouldn’t answer. But in my dream, he did. He started with “hello mom” and continued with a witty remark that had me laughing out loud. Just the sound of his voice…. Later in the day, Morgan and I went to see the latest Nicholas Sparks movie. Like in Norse mythology, a happy ending in a Sparks’ film is rare. And “The Best of Me” was no different. And when did including a child dying of cancer become so prevalent in books and film? Of course, I had read the book beforehand so I knew what I was getting into by going. After the movie, my college freshman ditched me, so I went over to see my mom, forgetting she had gone to see Garth Brooks with my brother. With time to kill, I plopped down in my dad’s office and just soaked in all of his stuff. I came across a scrapbook that had belonged to his mom and I enjoyed looking at articles she had carefully placed about my dad taking the head coaching job at Ware County back in the 60s. And then I came across a section of mementoes of her son, Clemm, my uncle who died of diphtheria when he was eight years old. I have memories of being a little girl and looking at Clemm’s picture hanging on the wall in her bedroom. To be honest, his picture used to make me uneasy because I was a child and children weren’t supposed to die. I remember the story of how the picture on the wall was his school picture, which my grandmother received after his funeral. Looking at sympathy cards and notes that my grandmother had saved, I was struck with the language that has not changed in the last several decades…… God will not give you more than you can bear, you still have two children, he is in a better place….. etc…….. Words that simply do not comfort a grieving mother. Sadly, I have come to learn that there just are no words. I look forward to talking to my grandmother one day in Heaven about this bond we now share. As I continued to look, I noticed Clemm’s birthdate, December 19, 1929. Eighty-two years later on December 19, 2011, Clemm’s great nephew Chase would be diagnosed with leukemia. Weird….. or what we call in the English department as irony. So now I sit here typing on Chase’s laptop thinking, reflecting, and as always, grieving. But I will end this rambling with this – Though I am not Freud, I will interpret my own dream. After a restless night of nightmares, my son called me and had me laughing. He used big words just like he had done since he started talking so not only did I hear his voice, I heard his personality. My son is not lost. He is alive and well. And our story is not over. Just as my grandmother is reunited with her son, so will I be reunited with mine. And in the meantime, I will live my life with family here on Earth. And only by God’s grace. Because God has given me more than I can bear, and the only reason I am still standing is because He is with me, and I let Him lead the way. Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Psalm 119:105)
Posted on: Sun, 19 Oct 2014 02:23:10 +0000
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