Never Alone...

‎"I think we dream so we don’t have to be apart for so long. If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can be together all the time— A.A. Milne (Winnie-the-Pooh)

I've been wrestling back and forth with this blog post for some time now. No one wants to drive a subject into the ground. I feel that writing this, may help me heal somehow. I've held it in, though, for a long long time now. Partly because I feel like telling this particular story sounds completely crazy, and partly because it is so incredibly personal that I can hardly bare to write it.

The day before my dad past away, I had somewhat of a selfish moment. My mom had asked me to sit with him so that she could go to work for about half a day. My husband and I were working on moving into our house, so I had planned to move our things all that morning. I was very upset to not be allowed to do this. Not just because it had put a damper on my plans, but because toward the end of my dad's life, it became harder for me to stay with him for long periods at a time. The more I was with him, the more I knew our time grew shorter.

The next morning, my dad took a fall in the hallway of my parents house. I remember hearing him fall, then calling for my mom. If I were a brave person, I would have gotten up to help them. But I became paralyzed with fear, and refused to get out of bed. I'm not sure how much time lapsed from the time he fell, and the time I actually emerged from my room, but it felt like forever.

When I finally left the room my husband and I and my oldest, Caleb, had been staying, my mom began to explain to me the events of the day. I am not going to go into detail about this, because these details are both hurtful and scary for my mom and I to relive. So, to make this story a little short I will try to tell you the most important details. That day, as my dad rested, I went on into work. My mom and papaw told me there was really nothing I could do, and not to worry.  I peaked my head into his room, and said the last words I would ever say to him. "Love you dad..."

That day my dad was rushed to Oak Ridge Hospital, and by the time I arrived, he had already been placed on life support. The next day, somewhere around 9:00 p.m. My dad was taken off of the ventilator, as he had requested by his oncologist.

I don't believe I have ever been through such a traumatic ordeal in my life. I blamed myself for not being able to say a proper goodbye. I was so wrapped up in my own day to day life. I couldn't see the one that was slipping right out of my hands. I will never get over that...

A couple of months after my dad past away I had a dream about him.

I couldn't see him, but it was like we were face to face having a conversation with one another.

"Daddy! I yelled. "I am so sorry that I was so selfish to you. I miss you so much, and I love you!"

"I love you too." he said. "Now I have to go. They are waiting for me. Bill and I are helping plan for the great battle."

"But daddy, please don't go, I'm afraid without you." I cried.

Just as I woke up, I heard him say, "Don't be afraid. I'll see you again. You are not alone."

I have dreamed of my dad since that day. But I've only seen his face, I have never heard his voice. But this particular dream has never left me. I can remember it as though it happened to me yesterday.

I won't say that my dad came to me in that dream. But I will say that MY GOD knows how to comfort even the inconsolable, and that I am not alone...