Joshua: Mommy wake up! Come on mommy, turn over and wake up.
Me: No, I'm tired. I want to sleep, that's what I want.
Joshua: No mommy, come on, get up. C'mon, that's right. Roll over and turn on the light.
Me: What the hell? I thought Gaby had gotten out of bed. Wait a minute, you're not Gaby, you're my Joshy. Joshua? Baby, is that you?
Joshua: Yep mommy, it's me.
Me: I miss you so much. I don't ever dream about you. Maybe only a handful of times since you've been gone. Is this really a dream or are you here? Am I dead?
Joshua: No mommy, it's just a dream. Mommy, you need to get your dream journal and write this down, OK? Can you do that for me?
Me: No, I don't want to move. If I move you'll be gone. You'll vanish into thin air like smoke rising from a camp fire.
Joshua: No I won't. Just tell yourself that I'm here and I'll stay.
Me: Oh that's right. This is my dream after all, and deep down inside, isn't it my subconscious that's doing all of this?
Joshua: Maybe technically, but for now, I'm here with you.
Me: OK, well, just promise me you won't go anywhere. It will just take me a minute to get a my journal and something to write with.
Joshua: Don't worry mommy, I'm not going anywhere.
Me: Can I look at you for just a minute? Can I just inhale your presence?
Joshua: You can do whatever you want to mommy.
Me: I don't even know what to say. So many thoughts are racing through my head right now. It's overwhelming how much I've missed you. Do you miss me? Where did you go after you left me? I want to run my hands through your curls and kiss your face and hold you close. I still remember how you used to smell of sunshine, sunscreen, laundry detergent and dirt, in the summer time.
Joshua: Mommy, I'm always near you. I watch over you all the time. I'm here. always. Close by.
Me: You were there the night after Gaby Rose was born, weren't you? You sat on her shoulders while the doctors worked to keep her alive. I know you were there.
Joshua: Yes, I was there. I was there when you gave birth to her and touched your cheek when you cried as they whisked her away to the NICU. I was watching you touch her tiny hands and sing "Edelweiss" to her as she lay there with lots of tubes and machines keeping her alive. I sat near her shoulder when you read Little House on the Prairie to her and I watched the glow spread across your face as she pulled through the forest of darkness and was placed in your arms.
Me: Sometimes, and I don't know how, but I always know you're there. But why are you here now? I mean, I don't ever dream about you. I always hope I will. But its so rare. The times I do dream of you it's very short dreams, but I never interact with you. Or it's that awful dream, on the dock, with the alligator, but I don't want to talk about that.
You know kiddo, it just occurred to me that you don't sound like a two year old. I mean, you look just like my Joshy but you kinda sound like Ben Affleck. How come?
Joshua: It's your dream mommy. I bet I do look kind of funny with a big guy voice coming from my face, huh? In your head I've aged, but physically in your realistic memory, I am still as I was when you last saw me, alive.
Me: Yeah, you do sound like a big guy. But I don't mind. Say kiddo, um, this is kind of a silly question, but do you have wings?
Joshua: Do you want me to have wings?
Me: Well, if they're anything like John Travolta's wings in "Michael", then naww, it's cool. That would kind of freak me out, I think. Plus you might knock over the lamp and wake Gareth up. Wings or no wings, I'm just glad you're here.
Joshua: Mommy, I'm glad you're glad. I like to see you happy, and you aren't happy that often any more. That's mostly why I'm here. I want you to be happy again Mommy.
Me: But I am happy right now. You're here. I get to talk to you. Joshy, do you remember the first snowfall in that little house in the mountains. Do you remember me waking you up in the middle of the night to show you the softly falling crystalline flakes. Do you remember opening the front door, oh so quietly so we wouldn't wake your daddy and putting your hands outside to catch the snowflakes as they fell to earth? Do you remember coming back inside and snuggling next to me near the fireplace? We fell asleep there, just you and I, bundled together and cuddled close as it snowed outside. I'd like nothing more than to go back to that time and forever sleep in that moment.
Joshua: Mommy, you can't stay asleep forever. I love being here with you like this, but you have to wake up sometime.
Me: Some days I don't want to get out of bed. It's easier to just sleep and forget everything.
Joshua: But you can't do that. It's not healthy. Mommy, you can't do this anymore. I love you and you won't last long if you keep this up. So many people depend on you.
Me: But I am broken inside Joshua. I have failed in so many things. It's just easier to give in and slide under the indigo waters of this deep ocean I'm treading water in. I want to be with you instead.
Joshua: NO MOMMY, NO! Gaby Rose needs you, Meaghan and Matt, and even Zack still needs you, even if he says he doesn't, he does! And Gareth needs you. You are his mate, his best friend and the love of his life. Other people need you too. Don't you see that?
Me: No, I see other people who make fun of me, hurt me, belittle me. Sometimes I feel like everyone close to me would be better off without me.
Joshua: Mommy, take my hand. Hold fast to my hand. That's right, hold tight. Now tell me, what you do you see?
Me: I see a bright sunny day along the coast. I see a golden sandy beach with white caps gently lapping at the shore. I see a family on a blanket - underneath a bright yellow and orange beach umbrella. They're laughing and giggling. Look at that little girl...she looks just like Gaby Rose. Same blonde curls and big expressive brown eyes. It looks like Matt and Meaghan are jumping through the waves and there's a lady standing there, a beautiful lady, with a camera. She's taking picture after picture of the older kids and she's laughing and telling them not to splash her or they're going to buy her a new camera. She's really beautiful. And coming up behind her...wait a minute, that's Gareth. He's beaming at the woman with the camera. He's chiding Gaby as she tries to pull a crab from beneath it's shell.
Joshy, I don't understand. Who is that woman? They all seem so happy and she seems to be the center of attention.
Joshua: Mommy, take another look at the beautiful lady standing there. Do you notice her twinkling greenish-hazel eyes and her strong cheekbones and lilting laugh?
Me: No, I don't want to look at her. It's like she's replaced me.
Joshua: Mommy, please please just look at her.
Me: Alright Joshy, for you.
Oh my God. That's me. How can it be though? This woman is thin and she's laughing and she's carefree. She's....she's happy.
Joshua: She is. Mommy, you can be happy. I want you to be happy. Mommy, reach out and touch her.
Me: I can't. She's too far away.
Joshua: No mommy, trust me. She's right there. Reach. That's right. Stretch your hand out and touch her hair. Touch her face. Run your fingers along her smile and touch her throat and feel the happy vibrations as she laughs.
Me: It's all so real. So close.
Joshua: That's right mommy. It is real. And it's so very close. You just have to keep reaching for her. She's right there, under the surface.
Me: But sometimes kiddo, that woman seems to far away. I feel like Tantalus sometimes. Happiness is so close, yet when I bend over to drink from the river that beckons me, it slips away...dips underneath me to where I can't reach it. It's far too hard sometimes to keep trying.
Joshua: But you must keep trying mommy. For everyone...but mostly for you. You have to fight. Fight hard and get angry. Get thirsty!
Me: I know. You are the saying words I've heard a million times over in the last 18 months. You're very smart for a two year old...ya know?
Joshua: I've had time to learn. Floating around all the time gets boring sometimes. I like to read when I'm not pestering St. Peter, or putting fake cockroaches in Mother Teresa's tea.
Me: You're incorrigible dear boy. Some things never change, do they?
Joshua: Sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Me: I know. I'm glad you came to visit me the way I remembered you. I think if you ended up looking like you sound, kind of like Ben Affleck, I might have had a heart attack.
Joshua: Mommy, promise me you'll try and get thirsty, so that you don't have a real heart attack. You can't keep doing this. You won't last very long living the way you are. Try just a little bit each day to get angry and get the bad stuff out. Please mommy, promise me. Don't let the bad people, and the hurts and owwies inside destroy you. Fight hard to be the pretty lady on the beach...to be the beautiful lady you are. My mommy is a beautiful lady. If I could mommy, I'd beat up all the bad people who have made you hurt. But I can't. So you have to fight. Fight hard mommy!
Me: Littlest love, do you remember when I use to call you that? Littlest Love, for you I will try. I promise. Will you promise me that you'll come and see me again?
Joshua: But mommy, I'm already here. I'm always with you.
Me: Yes Littlest Love, you are.
Joshua: Sleep mommy. And don't forget your promise.
***************
When I woke at 3:45AM this morning my dream journal was perched on the nightstand on my side of the bed. An ink pen was resting between the crisp white pages upon which black ink had been hastily scribbled at some point in the middle of the night.
I rarely dream of Joshua. I have discovered through reading various books on grief and loss over the years, and speaking with other parents that have lost children, that dreams of their dead child are few and far between. When I do have lovely dreams of Joshua I cherish them. I tuck them into the corner of my mind where other buried treasure exists; treasure that I run the tendrils of memory through like fingers running through mounds of gold and jewels. And I always, always write them down.
I don't have a keen understanding of how our minds work, but I do recall hearing somewhere that dreams are byproducts of our subconscious. The theories seem to be that dreams are things suppressed, or the result of stress, irritants or emotions; both good and bad. I don't know how accurate that is but I do have a feeling that this time, with this dream, I need to listen and heed Joshua's message.
I understand that I can't keep living like this and that something has to change. A lot of people say that you have to hit rock bottom before you pull yourself back up. Well, I can't get any lower than I am now. If there is something below "rock bottom" I've been mucking around in it for more than a year. Sometimes I do try and pull myself up, but I slip on the slime that lines my abyss and fall back down again. All I need is something to hang onto...something to reach for.
I think that beautiful lady on the beach is what I need to be reaching for.
