I rarely remember them, but I've had a few amazing dreams that I do.
I once dreamed of holding baby Abby in the woods. It was peaceful and beautiful. I was talking to her and animals started showing up. It was very Snow White like.
As we sat happily, a very old, majestic, giant tortoise began to slowly walk by. Everything in the forest stilled. I pointed to him and whispered to Abby how special and rare it was to see such a unique creature. The old turtle stopped right in front of her, and looked straight into her eyes with the most heartbreakingly loving look I'd ever seen. Then a single tear rolled down his cheek and he slowly walked away. I woke up bothered by the dream, and vividly remembered it.
There was a page in Abby's favorite book that hospice gave us to read to her about dying that brought the dream back to me. I'm still not sure what it meant, if anything, but it stayed with me.
When the girls were little, I prayed God would heal them, daily and fervently. I don't think there were many days I went to sleep without tears on my pillow. I wish I could remember how old they were when I finally had a dream that I believe answered those prayers, but I can't. I only remember the dream.
I was in the grocery store (which still makes me laugh--where else would I be?) walking with my cart. As I looked down to the other end of the isle, I saw Emily and Abby walking hand in hand with Jeff's grandfather. He was young and beautiful. I'd never seen him that way, but somehow I knew it was him. The twins were skipping beside him. The first thing I noticed was their hair moving. When you have a child that can't walk, the little things, like bouncing curls are greatly missed. They were everything I had ever hoped or dreamed they would be, and so much more. I walked down the isle to get to them, but they were on the other side of where I was. This happened several times before I understood. I WOULD see them that way. Just not on this side.
I woke up with complete peace. I was able to move on from that point and enjoy my girls more where they were. It didn't mean I was never sad again, but I felt that God had clearly answered me. They were going to be okay.
I clung to that image of Abby, clearly engraved in my mind, healthy and whole in the last months of her life. It was a comfort in the midst of sorrow.
Since Abby died, I've hoped I would dream of her. I miss her so much. I knew that it would be a gift to dream of her.
I finally did, two months after she died. I was holding her in a chair by a window. The light shined in on her face. I could almost feel the weight of her in my arms when I woke up. She was my Abby, healthy and smiling, saying "ya" and "ma-ma" in the way only she can. She asked about her grandma, and we talked as we always did. She felt so real and alive, that I was a little confused when I woke up. I was so happy to see her.
I didn't dream of her again until a few days ago. In my dream, I went to visit her grave and she was sitting beside it. It was a weird confused dream, where I knew it didn't make sense even as it was unfolding. I went to her and realized she was alive. I picked her up and she felt heavy and strong; not the frail girl we buried there. I was still confused, but so happy to see her. I thought she was hungry, but remembered I removed her g-tube and central line. I thought I should take her to the hospital, but didn't want to. We took her home where she drank apple juice for Jeff really well, so we started feeding her by mouth and laughing and talking to her. It felt miraculous to be with her again like that. I didn't care how she got there, I was just so thankful for the time I had with her.
I don't believe that Abby was actually there in my dream. I believe she is in Heaven, surrounded in light, love, and the presence of God. I don't think she misses us at all in such goodness. I do believe that God gives us what we need. I believe He comforts me with those very few moments I feel my girl in my arms again.
I think it comes from Him when I need it most, because if I had a choice, I would hold her every night and wake up without having to miss her so much each day.
As it is, I have a precious hour in a dream, that I'm able to remember the little girl I love so completely. When I'm awake and thinking of her, I often replay the last year and a half in my mind. It's hard to remember her healthy. I just love that I've dreamed of her smiling and not sick.
A few people have told me that they've dreamed of Abby without CP. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I loved the dream I had when she was little, but now I am so thankful to see her healthy, even with CP. That's the Abby I know and love. Even in my dreams.
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