Me: Dream Blog #3- Remembering...

My Step-Dad, Ralph, passed away on July 11, 2009. He was driving his motorcycle down a hill and, somehow, lost control. The bike threw him and he hit the ground in such a way that killed him. He was gone almost instantly. I will never forget that day. I will never forget the panic in my mother's voice when she called me. I will never forget the 4 1/2 hour drive to Arkansas, the longest drive in my life. I will never forget the week following his death. Planning a funeral, picking out what he would wear, helping my mother get through the next moment. It has been the single hardest thing I have ever had to go through and I know I am not the same person I was before he died. It has been just over 6 months now and I still find myself tearing up when I hear a song or see something that reminds me of him. I even had a dream about him last night.

I was having a very hard time sleeping last night and I don't really remember the entire dream because I was in and out of consciousness. I do know that I was dreaming that I was dreaming. Weird, I know. I was sleeping and I heard Ralph's voice. He was talking to my mom. I don't remember everything he said. However, I do remember him saying, "Hey Babe." His voice was so clear. It was like he was in the next room. When I woke up (in my dream) I was so excited that I heard his voice because I knew I didn't want to forget what it sounded like.

That's all I really remember about that dream, but it got me thinking of another dream that I would like to share. I had this dream while I was staying with my Mom at the beginning of August.

My brother, sister, mom, and I were preparing Ralph to be buried. We were actually cleaning him and trying to place him in the casket. We were also doing all of this outdoors, at the cemetery. However, Ralph's body was just being difficult. A leg would fall out of the casket and then just as we would get it tucked back in, his arm would fall out to the side. I was frustrated and grief stricken, so I walked away and watched as the rest of my family struggled to get him in the casket. Just then, he sat up! He suddenly had a huge grin on his face. He got out of the casket, grabbed my mom, and started dancing. He was dancing with her all around the cemetery, picking up flowers for her as he went. Then he started dancing toward me. When he reached me, he grabbed my hand, looked me in the eye, and just kept smiling. He never said a word. He just smiled and danced. I tried to follow him, but then I saw his son, David, all dressed in black. He was wearing sunglasses and I could tell he had been crying. He looked at me and said, "It's just so hard, isn't it?" "Yes, it is." was all I could say with tears in my own eyes.

Those tears were in my eyes when I woke up that morning. That dream wasn't just a dream. I could FEEL his hand in my hand. It wasn't the cold, stiff hand that we had placed in ground just a few weeks earlier. It was warm and was able to move freely. I believe that Ralph was letting me know he was ok. He was dancing in heaven, just waiting for us all to be there, too.

This is the poem I read at his funeral...

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says "There, she is gone."
"Gone where?"
"Gone from my sight. That is all."
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at that moment when someone says "There, she is gone" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout - "Here she comes!"