93: The Blessing of a Dream

93: The Blessing of a Dream

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grieving and Recovery

The Blessing of a Dream

Happiness is a function of accepting what is.

~Werner Erhard

My son fell asleep at the wheel around one in the morning. He passed away before the sun rose to bless the day. As anyone knows who experiences such a loss, your world is turned upside down and you are changed forever.

At first I was sure I would never smile again and never find joy in the simple blessings of everyday life. When I did begin to experience joy, I would feel guilty about it. How could I feel happy after experiencing the death of my child?

Very disturbing dreams in the early months left me tossing and turning, sweating and waking up with a gasp. I dreamed of plane crashes, cars in flames, and falling off the edge of bridges. Terrifying dreams that made no sense, but spoke of my inner anguish. Then one night about six months after the tragedy of my son’s death, I had a dream that changed everything.

In my dream, I was seated in an audience of listeners and my son was playing guitar on a stage. My son was a classical guitarist with his master’s degree in music. He had done many recitals in his college years, and my husband and I had been there for most of them. Now, in my dream, he was performing, seated between two other guitarists on the stage before me. I heard and felt the music drawing me closer and closer to him. It was as if I was floating! My only desire in the dream was to get as close to him as I could. I felt myself rising and nearing the stage, and then I stopped in the front row. The heavenly music continued, and I saw my son reach to turn the page on the music stand in front of him. This portion of my dream was ironic, because he never used music sheets at a recital—he practiced until he knew the pieces by heart!

As my son reached to turn his sheet music, it fell. Every last piece floated into the air and onto the floor around him. The music stopped. The performers on either side of him also stopped playing, and a hush fell over the entire auditorium as I reached out, wanting to gather up his music and make things right for him.

But suddenly he stopped me. He looked me right in the eyes. The message conveyed to me in that dream, even though he never said a word, was, “It’s okay, Mom. The music is supposed to stop now. This is the way it’s supposed to be!”

I felt such a peace come over me in that dream. I don’t know why or how it happened, but I woke up feeling that peace still permeating my entire being. And it stayed with me for a long, long time.

I believe that there are so many things in this lifetime we will never understand. So many “whys” that we scream towards the heavens, demanding answers. But we won’t get the answers. Very often instead, perhaps in dreams, we are blessed with peace—the peace that passeth all understanding!

~Beverly F. Walker

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