Do you miss Darlene?

"Do you miss Darlene?" my mom asked me and I could hear in her voice that she was holding back tears. Darlene, my mom's cousin. Darlene my Godmother in title, and in creating a space to learn a little of God. The one who spoke peace into our family with her gift of hospitality.
It's been 7 years.

"Yes and no," was my answer.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I, um, I had a dream about her..." and I hesitated; what would she think of my dream?
"I had a dream I was in a beautiful field, and there was forest off in the distance, a cobblestone road and a bridge over a stream. Very vibrant. I knew I was dead, and I felt so much fear! But when I saw Darlene, I felt welcomed. It felt like a home kind of feeling. She took my hand. I said in my dream, "Jesus, I love you. Please take care of my family." Then I woke up. I felt peace. Darlene was at peace and in Heaven, I've no doubt."
My mom was so pleased with my dream, but maybe not comforted. I don't know. The conversation went south and I wasn't sure if I had done right in sharing my dream.
Truly, truly I thought that was all: my grieving process made bearable by a dream of Heavenly beauty.

Our conversation took place maybe two or three weeks ago. Today in a moment of my vulnerability, God showed me memory after memory, suppressed but not completely forgotten and I cried and cried. I remembered playing next to her in church playing with a doll; remembered my terrible imaginings of what lay behind a door in her apartment, (just a stairwell - emergency exit!) I remember going with her to a farm and seeing an artist's loft in the garage, (oh my delight!) and her restaurant... Her trailer by my grandparents cabin, (the memory fading... small fridge, smell of mothballs; my wonder at the sheer number of different things all growing in the same green shade spread out as lawn!), and more church memories. Perogy dinner at the Basillica hall: blessing the baskets at Easter: A picture of Jesus wounded, eyes infinitely sad that people kissed and kissed. (I could only think of the germs; I could not look at His suffering,) I remember sparkly glass and decorating Ukrainian Easter eggs. A dog named Snoopy, and her best friend Elizabeth. Wonderful memories. Sweet memories. Some memories only sad: her funeral: a sheer force of numbness that I am sad to say is my very own retreat into escapism, her on her couch; my mom her comforter and her nurse. Bittersweet. I am sad but very blessed by these memories.

And so I find myself, almost 2 in the morning again, writing. Writing a thank you to God who knows me better then I know myself. Who knew that I needed a good cry... Who orchestrated one more step in my healing: who drew me near so gently that I almost missed it. For it was my friend K's wedding this weekend that opened the crack: her wedding held in the same hall I had been to many times before, with Darlene, only this time instead of excitedly anticipating a dinner with games and prizes and tables full of sweets... this time it was a celebration of love! How gentle of my Father in Heaven! How tender in mercy; how full of loving-kindness! A wedding to draw me out of my shell and bring me back to a place of remembering.

^{Psalm 51: 17}
My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise.

^{Matthew 5: 4} Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.

Not sure if this will work but I'm linking with my friend Emily today:



Praying for a safe and speedy delivery of her 2nd baby, another miracle, as she was told she would never have kids. :D