How many times did I call or text Amy, or one of my other children, with that same question? And how frantic was I when I couldn’t reach them to get the reassurance I needed to know they were ok. My mother radar was in overdrive while my voice of reason kept reassuring me they were safe and sound and I should calm down. Most times our children are okay, but then something happens and your voice of reason disappears. Because the worst possible thing that could happen, did!
How many times did I worry if I heard a siren that it could be responding to an accident that involved one of my loved ones and I frantically reached for the phone to confirm they were okay. Even though that siren could be changing someone else’s life or world, as long as my loved one was okay, I gave it no further thought… Normal, yet cold, reaction.
I remember when my children were in Catholic grade school, probably grades 1-4, how they would run to the door with their hands folded to say a prayer every time they heard a siren and stood there praying if it went past our home. They did it so often that I became immune to that beautiful display of kindness to a stranger.
I also remember when my son got his license how scared I would be when he took his car out at night because we all know how weekends seem to have more drunk drivers on the roads. I also remember the night he came into my room and told me that he had been hit by a drunk driver, but he was ok but the car his aunt just gave him was totaled. Who cares about the car! Thank God you are okay was my reaction. Thank you God for protecting my son! There were sirens that night but I didn’t hear them. Wonder if anyone ran to the door to say a prayer…
Now when I hear a siren, I remember August 4 and praying for it to get here as soon as possible! The hours after that are the reason I still occasionally suffer from PTSD!
Where are you, Amy? Heaven? Surely a person with a pure heart goes straight to heaven, right? How many times did I say to other grieving friends and family, “well, your loved one is in Heaven now so they are fine.” What gave me the confidence to say that then, yet now I wonder. And why didn’t they ask me how I knew that was so! Why didn’t they get angry at me like I do when someone says that as a way to shut me up, pacify me, or most times, just comfort me.
I wish I could call or text you, Amy, and you could reassure me you are somewhere wonderful surrounded by so many loved ones and that you will be just fine until I get there! I wish you could take a photo with that big smile and text it to me and say,”see, Mom, look how beautiful it is here!”
Someone in a recent bereavement class said that after recently reading about NDEs, that given the choice, most people want to stay in Heaven or that dimension. She said what if our children are happier there and don’t want to come home? As a mother, I have prayed every day for my children’s safety and happiness. Surely this can’t be the answer to my prayers for Amy?!? Since I am not feeling warm and fuzzy about my religion, how do I embrace this?
Yet this morning, I woke up and felt this big push to revisit NDEs on YouTube and found this very helpful segment of Dr. Alexander’s NDE experience. (Sidebar: Like Dr. Alexander, when my son was 9 months old, he had bacterial spinal meningitis. And God seemed to answer my prayers at that time.)
I want to believe Dr. Alexander. I sort of do. I am trying. I really am! I haven’t turned the corner, but I am peeking around the corner open more to the possibility that I no longer have to worry about Amy, because she really is just fine. Yes, she sends me signs, but I want more proof.
At Christmastime, I did not put up a tree and had no interest in sending out Christmas card? Christmas lost it’s meaning. Yet I wanted people to remember Amy so I decided to make another memorial card and send it out with a subtle holiday greeting. Subtle because joyful does not fit into a grievers world, or should I say my world this past year. Peace is even a stretch. Now, anyway.
As I looked through the many photos of Amy, searching for the photo for the memorial card, I found this one taken on a cruise from our balcony. I remember knocking on my daughters’ cabin door across the hall and asking Amy to come stand on our balcony. In front of this beautiful sunset! I pray that our sunsets give us a glimpse of where Amy is and that it’s 1,000+ times better there than I could ever imagine. And in my mother’s heart, I hope that it’s a place, that given a choice, Amy would want to stay because she is so happy!
Remember Amy Marie, who only wore hoop earrings unless the earrings were a gift from her “Granny”.