I haven't written too much about God publicly. I know there are many, many viewpoints, opinions, and experiences on the topic of God/heaven/hell/religion, and I always want to be respectful of other's beliefs. I hope that people can be respectful of my beliefs as well.
But to talk about God, I must first talk about my Grandma.
Most days something reminds me of her. Sometimes it's food, how I wish I could make yellow syrup and pancakes like she did. Or rice pudding. I can never get it quite right. Sometimes it's clothes. She loved oversized jackets and sweaters. Every now and then I put on the one I took from her closet before they sold the house just to feel like she's close again.
Her last few years were hard. She fell a lot. I saw some of these falls. One was at an outdoor basketball tournament I played in and she came to watch me. I was hanging out between games when someone ran up to me and said my Grandma had fallen. I saw a crowd and pushed through. There she laid, on her back with her femur split straight in half, the bone perpendicular with the ground. I started to have these awful dreams about her falling, being in pain, and needing help but no one was around. I'd wake up in panic, wondering if she was alright in real life. She was also losing her eyesight. I remember watching her try to dip a shrimp into cocktail sauce, but the lid was still on cup of sauce. She couldn't see the lid there.
When she passed, I prayed and hoped she'd come visit me. I just wanted to know she was alright, and that all this stuff about seeing her again might actually be true. I got pregnant with my second child and couldn't call her to tell her. Then, when that second child was born and surprised us with Down syndrome, I couldn't call her and tell her. I imagined she'd cry with me, and then grace me with the wisdom I'd sought from her so many times in my life. She would help calm my worries and remind me of a God who cares. If she was here, this might seem easier.
I didn't ever get to see her in spirit or ghost form, but she did come to me.
She comes to me in my dreams. When I see her there, she's younger and free from the old age that caused her so much trouble. I don't wake up scared for her safety. I feel peace. I haven't once had a scary, panicked dream about Grandma since she passed. She is telling me that she's alright.
But time has a tendency to make a mess of what we've experienced. Did I imagine those dreams? Were they just my mind making up what I wanted? I'm not sure anything that I've learned or felt is actually true.
Not so long ago, I saw her again. In my dream I was rushing down a long, crowded hallway, pushing my stroller with Cooper in and dragging my big kid along. We were heading to a doctor's appointment, and I couldn't be late. But there were so many dang people. I felt flustered trying to keep my kids close and annoyed at the crowd. I looked down to check for my big kid next to me, and when I looked up again I saw Grandma.
I was going one way, she was coming from the other. I bumped my way toward her and got to her just before we would have passed each other. I reached out and grabbed her arm, both of us creating a sort of bubble in the passing masses. She looked down at my hand and then up at my face. She smiled at me and gently squeezed my hand. She was younger than when I'd last seen her in person, and the joy on her face was visible, almost tangible. I wondered why she didn't seem bothered by the crowd like I was. I noticed she was wearing one of our Cooperman T-shirts, a shirt she'd never had a chance to wear Earth side. The sight brought tears to my eyes. As quickly as we'd stopped the crowd, it pushed against us and separated us. She was gone.
We didn't speak any words in the dream. But when I woke up, I knew. She was telling me that she knows my Cooper. She cheers for him as hard as we do here. And she does what she can to help me as I fumble my way through motherhood. Her joyous smile told me she is around in the moments I wonder where she's at. She's supporting me still, just in a different way than before.
I'm grateful for these divine visits. They tether me to a faith in Heaven and God that used to come so easily to me, but sits differently since meeting Cooper. Is there actually a God? Is he aware of me? Is there a divine plan for my life like I've been taught? Is there a plan for Cooper's life? Where do people with special needs fit in to it all? I have wondered a lot about God since meeting Cooper. Maybe the faith I used to have is being rebuilt, with a foundation less shakable than the one I had before. I'm not sure yet, but I do know that Cooper has come and changed the way I think about a lot of things. I believe he's changed my thinking for the better.
Professional photo by Camilynne Photography. Check out her website! She does a lot of amazing work for the special needs community. https://www.camilynnephotography.com/
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