When Amy was about 4 or 5 years old, she had an imaginary friend whom she called “Babe.” Coincidentally, that is what my husband called me. Anyway, when Amy was in kindergarten I learned about a video that addressed imaginary friends and so one afternoon I decided to rent it and play it for Amy. I don’t remember the name of the video but I do remember that Puff The Magic Dragon was in it and he helped out his friend, Terry, who was obsessed with his imaginary friend whose name was “Nobody.” So, after we watched the video together, I asked Amy if she now understood about imaginary friends. To which she replied, “there’s no such thing as imaginary friends, there is no such thing as Nobody, right Babe?”
Amy’s imaginary friend could have been Babe Ruth for all I know and when I think of that invisible curtain which separates Amy and I, and how I have been reminded that Amy is still with me because a) love never dies and b) she is just in a different dimension — one that I cannot see, it makes me remember the joy and ease Amy had with her invisible friend, Babe.
At times, I admit, that my grief is so thick that I do believe that it is blocking my ability to feel the peace and love that continues between Amy and I. Many can attest to the remarkable signs that Amy sends us but it’s such a painful challenge to allow my heart and mind to accept that my beautiful girl’s physical presence is forever gone and that I now need to embrace her in her new spirit form.
I need to truly believe that love never dies and my daughter’s beautiful energy lives on in a dimension that I cannot see just like Amy’s invisible friend, Babe.
It is so very sad to lose a child and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish that I could rewind and go back to my old life. I just want her back unless someone can 1,000% guarantee me that my sweet Amy is truly in a better place…
Believing can be a tall order some days. I admit that there are days when I question EVERYTHING! Why, where and how???
Why was my daughter stolen from us? She was so good! And we were good parents! She had such a pure heart! Doesn’t the world needed more kind and gentle people? Just listen to the news! Hello God! Surely heaven and the spirit world have enough of these gentle souls! It is inevitable that my family will always feel like we, personally, were robbed and cheated by life and we will never ever understand WHY?
And WHERE are you, Amy? That was the most painful question of all! As a mother, my need to know and be reassured that my daughter was not just ok, but blissful, haunted me as I felt so abandoned by God and by my faith. I will never accept that Amy’s reward on the other side is anything but blissful. After all, she was taken, or stolen as I say, way too soon and there has to be a gigantic reward there for her!
From Day 1, I got signs. So many that I started to question that the grief was causing me to lose my mind! In recent months, it has been comforting to read about others who have lost loved ones and experienced the same signs — who knew? I didn’t! I now respect and honor their signs as well as mine. What a gift!
HOW? How do I live in a world without Amy? My children are my purpose in life. Being a mother does define me! Regardless of how outdated that may be … it’s my choice and they have always and will always continue to be my priority.
My baseline personality is not joyful. That’s a reality. I am a deep thinker and spend way too much time inside of my own head. My internal compass, or what John Edward may call “our guides”, has always pushed me to follow the straight and narrow path. Morally, I set the bar extremely high for myself and others. Unrealistic at times, I confess. The only real joy I felt was when I was with my husband and my children. Just the 5 of us is how it’s always been. Now what?
Believe! That has to be my new mantra. While I could seriously slap anyone who insinuates that this happened for a reason or that my daughter died to save their family or anyone else’s soul. Please excuse my angry grief outburst as I recall how unbelievable to me that anyone could be so self absorbed to ever insinuate this. But they did. Or give me a timeline to recover from this truly horrific loss. Clueless idiots! Disclaimer: Hey, I am not professing to be an inspirational motivational speaker. I am just an ordinary grieving mom.
I must believe in the possibility that Amy learned her life lessons so fast that her reward, unfortunately not mine, was for her to return home but is she is “still here” as she reminded my sister in a vivid dream shortly after she passed away.
Just like the Emily Dickinson poem, Your Beautiful Life, I need to believe that Amy is vibrating to a different measure, behind a thin veil that I cannot see through, and that she will wait for the day when we can soar together again … But until then, I must live my life to the fullest and when I need her to just whisper her name in my heart and she will be there.
Believe … Yes, that’s what I need to do. Right, Amy! Right, Babe!