Saturday, February 13, 2016

The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of


So I had my first Libby dream.

It wasn't something I was anxiously awaiting. I'd heard from some other loss parents that they didn't have their first dream until more than a year later. I realized I couldn't control when it happened. I was also a bit nervous, because what if it was a bad dream? It could really go either way, it seemed.

It was the night the kids had gotten back from winter camp. An emotional night for me and I'd gone to bed early. As I awoke the next morning I lay there stunned, realizing I'd had my first Libby dream. Immediately I started working to bring the deails back to my consciousness, not wanting anything to slip away. Once I felt I had a grasp of it I ran to the computer to write it down so I wouldn't forget. And I figured if I was typing it up I might as well be typing it in an email that I send to my aunt, a psychologist specializing in dream work.

There were three distinct sections to my dream. In the first section I'm walking with Kaia, taking her to a birthday party. We're walking apart from each other in this big open area, maybe a desert or large field. She's forgotten her shoes which frustrates me. I'm missing my purse which worries me. Suddenly, as if rounding a corner that's not there, a large cream-colored office building is in front of us and this is our destination. Upstairs is like airport security. They're asking for my ID, my passport. I tell them I'm just there to bring my daughter to a birthday party (which is downstairs, maybe a pool party) and that I don't have my purse. But I suddenly discover I have a little pouch which contains my credit card, passport and chapstick.

I must have been ready for my trip because the next part of the dream finds me in the simple room of a high-rise apartment building in a gray, urban area. I'm looking out the window, maybe 10-15 flights up. My mom is in the back kitchen. As I'm sitting at the window, I see above me this telephone wire and there are these three young lambs (or goats, I wasn't exactly sure which) and they are about to start walking across the telephone wire from my building. My mom and I are so worried for them! But they come out on the wire and they're just breezily, playfully tripping along, even doing these four-legged pirhouettes on the wire. But just as I'm beginning to relax, one of the lambs jumps/falls from the telephone wire. The other two quickly follow suit. They weren't scared or sad as they tumbled from the wire, but as their bodies hit the roof of the gray maintenance shed far below I heard the breaking of their bones. Oh, I was heartbroken! I told my mom and she was so upset. I wanted to go after the lambs. I ended up outside but in a place where the scenery was so different from the gray city. It was this beautiful wooded glen with vibrant green leaves and grass as the bright sunlight came shining through. There was a man there, though I could not see him. He had been caring for the lambs and all three were there and they were fine, walking and playing about!

The third  and final part of my dream takes place in your basic grassy, tree-shaded park. Our whole family is there: Kurt, me, Max, Kaia, and our little Libby. And, thank you so much for this, Jesus, I got to sit in the grass and hold all three of my kids on my lap. I got to wrap my arms around them and feel them against me once more. (Let's just all take a moment to pause in appreciation for the gift of those moments!!) Then the five of us are walking through a town, a town that reminds me of those we'd seen in Europe. I knew that Libby was supposed to be dead, so I was watching the other pedestrians to see if they would/could look at her. I saw that they could see her so I knew she wasn't a ghost. Then we got the kids in the car to leave. A Volvo, I believe.

The next thing I remember is waking up. I was so relieved that it had been a nice dream, if a bit weird. So here are some analytical notes on my dream, brought to you by professionals who know way more than I do. (Along with some of my non-professional musings.)

From the first section: Missing shoes in a dream can mean that your soul is exposed or vulnerable. (If the shoe fits, wear it.) A missing purse (or wallet) can be indicative of a loss of identity. That certainly resonates with me as I'm trying to figure out what is next for me. The little pouch of essentials that shows up is maybe trying to tell me that I already have what I need for what's next. Whether in life or in my dream, who knows.

In the second section, the three lambs obviously represent my children. (Even now, I can't say definitively whether they were lambs or baby goats. I started calling them lambs, but later that same day something suddenly struck me. What are baby goats called? Kids! So fitting.) I never actually saw my mom in the dream, but her presence was so very strong. This whole section seems to be about motherhood, so it's very fitting that she's there. Because isn't this what parenting is like sometimes? Having to let our kids go out on the proverbial tightrope, to learn things on their own, to make their own mistakes. Sometimes our worry gets replaced with relief and excitement when we realize how capable they are and sometimes there are feelings of horror when things go terribly wrong. So there was my mom. With me. She was so concerned and then sad about the lambs, but she also had the added pain of seeing me, her own kid, hurting and scared. Added layers of grief. But then we're found in the bright presence of God and the lambs are perfectly fine. Because whatever the circumstances, it's through God that our children will ultimately find the purpose and happiness we wish for them.

The third section is the most straight-forward, the most real. And what a gift that is in itself! I recall teenage dreams where a cute boy is maybe about to kiss me and it's so super cool... except I would always wake up before the kiss actually happened! So disappointing! But this time I got the full experience of holding all three of my kids together! Nothing was rushed. We sat and when we were done we walked away, preparing to drive away together.

And because God works the way He does, there are some more fun twists to this story.

Kurt had his first Libby dream the same night! Crazy, right?! His was an auditory dream, he awoke to hear her calling his name, Dada, in the way she always did. What's also interesting to me is that while there was talking and sound in the first two sections of my dream, there was none in the third section which was also the section where both Kurt and Libby made their appearances. It was as if the sound from my dream just hopped over to his! (My aunt, the dream specialist, says that it's actually fairly common for spouses to have similar dreams, but since we don't often talk about our dreams together it goes by unnoticed. She once dreamt that she asked her husband to wash the dog and the same night he dreamt that he washed the dog. Kind of fun, huh?)

The timing was also certainly God's. You may remember some months back that when I had gone to count up the number of days that Libby had lived, I was shocked to find that she had lived for 629 days. Those numbers have always been significant because they are the numbers in my birthday, 6/29. It felt like God's way of letting me know that she was a gift, that that's what her purpose had been. Not just for me, or our family, but for everyone whose own life has been at all impacted by her story. Well, this dream came to us in the sixth month and on the 29 week anniversary of her death. Looking back, I should have almost been expecting something from God on that date! What a wonderful reaffirmation He gave us. I just can't imagine a better gift than this dream and having been able to spend some moments with my whole family together.

Bonus: Within the week I had my second Libby dream, which felt like an abundance after the gift of the first dream. Not that I was about to complain!

In this dream I'm at home and my mother-in-law brings the three kids home from an outing. Have you ever left your baby or child home without you for a couple days? As you were coming home did you wonder things like, Will they still recognize me? Will they be upset with me for leaving them? Well, that was the big question on my mind as I went out to see Libby. We were in our house and she had her back to me as I approached. Would she know me? Be angry with me? But she turned around and her face was full of love, delight, and joy as she looked at me.

No interpretation needed. Even as I write this I'm crying to remember that love from my girl. I can not wait for the day when I will get to see her smiling face in person and feel her arms wrapped around me again! In the meantime, though, this is the stuff that my dreams are made of. I am beyond grateful to have these nocturnal memories to tide me over until the days God has planned for me are done.

About the Bible journaling page. I tried to add powerful images from my dream to the page. I knew there was no way I could put the sensation of being able to hold my three kids in my lap on the page, so that's just going to have to stay in my heart for now. When I first made the 629 discovery I found a verse for that experience by going through the Bible and looking up every chapter 6, verse 29. (They're not in every book, so it's not too daunting!) So my original 629 page is on Mark 6:29, "When the disciples heard of it, they came and took his body and laid it in a tomb." Seems kind of fitting for our situation then, doesn't it? 
Because of the 629 connection with the dream I decided to try this method again. I didn't have to go too far. 2 Chronicles 6:29 (with a snippet from verse 30) seemed to fit our situation today. We're in a season of grieving, calling out to God, craving relief from Him. From heaven He hears us and sends us His gifts, knowing exactly what we need. 




Wednesday, February 10, 2016

More Beauty from Ashes

No, I'm so sorry, this is not the dream post. I promise that it's coming! I'm so honored that so many of you are so eager to hear about my Libby dream! It'll be done soon, but in the meantime I had myself a little moment at the Ash Wednesday service and I just wanted to share that as well. Thank you God for continuing to surprise me after all these years, for letting me always have more of You to learn.

Facebook post:

Sometimes when we hear the same words, the same messages over and over they can lose some of their impact.
There was a safe familiarity for me tonight, sitting in the Ash Wednesday service. We heard messages about the sacrifice Christ made so that we could have heaven. There was reflection certainly, but also comfort, like slipping your cold feet into a pair of well broken in slippers. It was familiar and reassuring. As we sang songs on the same themes, certain lyrics struck a chord. "Jesus paid it all / All to Him I owe," and from another song, "Oh praise the One who paid my debt / And raised my life up from the dead."
Our family obviously continues to have death on the brain. That mindset then naturally intertwines inself into song lyrics like these. And this has never happened before, since I am not at all musical, but I found myself adjusting the lyrics.
"Jesus paid it all... for Libby, All to Him I owe."
"Oh praise the One who paid her debt,
And raised her life up from the dead."
In that moment, I had a whole new understanding of Lent. I've heard my whole life about what He's done for me, for everyone. And I know that it is true and good. I'm so grateful for that gift, the promise that we'll get to have forever in heaven. But as I put my child's name into these lyrics... wow.
Who do you love more than yourself? Who would you protect at all costs? Put their name, the enormity of your love for them in these lyrics. All of a sudden I had learned a whole new level of gratitude for what Christ had done. One Parent helping out this parent's child in a way I could never do for her myself. I truly do owe Him everything. He saved my girl. He gave her a glorious, joy-filled life after she died. He gave me the gift of being able to say, with confidence, these past seven months, "I know she's doing awesome. We just really miss her."

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Home Alone: Parent's Edition

A few weeks ago Max and Kaia went to Winter Camp at Forest Home with other kids from our church. It was the first time they'd both been gone overnight together since Libby died.

The last time they were both gone was when they went to Summer Camp at Forest Home. They got back from that camp on Friday, June 26 and a few hours later Libby had her accident.

You could say that there were some feelings going into this camp weekend.

I wasn't worried about Max and Kaia going to camp. They love this sort of thing and were excited to go back. Max had done other camps last summer after Libby died so he had mostly gotten over his "if I go to camp, someone I love is going to die" concern. Kaia was just ready for a good time, as usual. But Mama wasn't doing so well. It was all too parallel and was dredging things up  from those last days more than ususal.

I remember dropping the kids off for camp back in June. Libby wasn't with me, and a fellow mom, with a little one in tow, saw that I had two kids heading off for the week. She made a comment about how lucky I was to be kid-free. I wish, I thought and maybe even said. But with a small sigh as I did the math, I knew it would probably be the better part of a decade before we might have the timing work where we would have all the kids out of the house simultaneously for a whole weekend.

Because isn't that what us parents of young ones dream about some days? To be kid-free for a week, a day, even an hour? And even now, I can't really feel guilty for that feeling. It's real. Because parenting is hard and exhausting along with all the fun and beautiful.

But now things are different obviously. I felt no excitement at being kid-free for the weekend. Parenting is still hard, but this was not how it was supposed to be, this was not what I had planned. We were not supposed to have child-free freedom. We were supposed to take turns waking up early with Libby while we prayed for long naps and early bed times. We would have spent the weekend trying to keep Libby entertained without her brother and sister around. We were supposed to be able to focus on her, give her some of that undivided attention that can be lacking for a third child. But these were clearly my plans and not God's.

Recently in my moms group our speaker Debbie Williamson talked about how there is no Plan B. God has only a Plan A. We may have other plans, but they're not necessarily His plans. In Jeremiah 29:11 God says He knows the plans He has for us. He's known those plans since the beginning of time. It doesn't just mean He knows what college we'll go to, who we'll marry, where we'll live. He knows our daily plans, what we write down on calendars and to-do lists, He knows the things that seem so unexpected to us. God has always known that Kurt and I would be getting our child-free weekends much sooner than we'd anticipated. He didn't cause it, but he knew it. He knew that my heart would be aching with renewed vigor, He knew that Kurt and I could actually really benefit from this time alone, and He knew we would need some extra comfort.

So back to Winter Camp drop-off. It was hard. Going through all the same steps of signing them in, dropping off luggage and sleeping bags, the buzzing excitement among the kids. It was all too familiar. I was probably the only one wearing sunglasses on that gray afternoon and pretty soon I just had to hand the reins over to Kurt. I said an early good-bye to my excited kids and let myself have a good cry in the car. That was the feeling for me that Friday.

God's mercies are new every morning, and Saturday brought less immediate heartache. We slept in a bit and enjoyed a lazy morning making plans for the day. Kurt and I had fun going thrift store shopping together and just hanging out, having no place we needed to be. That evening we drove to Pasadena. We decided that since we were kid-free we would be European, so I made  9:30 pm dinner reservations. Pretty wild, I know, but sometimes you have to let loose. We saw the lovely movie Brooklyn and enjoyed a great dinner. It had been a good day and I was so grateful for that. It would have been so easy for our grief, our emotions to take over and rule the day, but God had other plans.

And suddenly it was Sunday and the kids were back. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded if they got back a little later. I was really enjoying my time with Kurt. Marriage is hard. Marriage while you try to navigate your grief, your spouse's grief... it can be brutal. So it was really nice to be reminded of how much we enjoy each other's company and to see that we can still make each other laugh. (My favorite from our date night was when we were driving to Pasadena. We were both quiet as us introverts tend to be. Kurt looks at me and says, "So I guess you're just saving up all your conversation topics for dinner, huh?" Maybe you had to be there, maybe you have to be an intorvert to get it, but it sure did make me laugh. We've still got it.)

But now Max and Kaia were home and things were back to feeling parallel. They came home with the same level of excitement and exhaustion, though not quite as much dirt as a week of summer camp accumulates. Our activities were similar to that June afternoon 29 weeks ago, as we all seemed lulled by our exhaustion. I saw the similarities but didn't try to change things because what good was that going to do?

I went to bed early that night. Sometimes when the days or hours are hard, sleep is the escape. When I first woke up the next morning I just lay there in bed, stunned.

I had had my first Libby dream.