I have been extremely busy the last two weeks so I haven't had much time to stay up on my blog. I need to work on it this weekend....
However, today I was reading cousin Cindy's blog and she again mentioned "Heather" and she said it wouldn't be too much longer for her. I didn't know who this "Heather" was, so I ventured out to learn more by visiting her sister's blog.
For some reason I felt inspired to read every entry her sister had written about her. Heather is in the final days of her life and her sister is chronicalling the situation, her feelings, and updating family and friends through her blog. As I was just finishing reading the most current entry, I must have been exhausted from the past two weeks because my eyes closed for a little bit and I fell sleep. During this little nap, sitting at my computer, I had a most wonderful experience that I want to record here, right now, so I don't forget how wonderful it was and the deep feelings I have today.
My mom passed away 4 years ago. I am the oldest of 5 and was 36 years old. My youngest sibling was just 27. It was extremely hard on him as the youngest child (although the others also had difficult times too) and as the oldest, I wasn't really able to feel any sadness or grief because I had to hold it together for my dad and my siblings. Over the last four years, I've periodically grieved for my mom and I've often been quite jealous when others have told me they have felt her close by or smelled the powder she wore - when they were all alone or needed her. I have never felt any of those things in the last four years. There was ONCE when I was in the temple and I was very emotional about some things that I THOUGHT I felt her hand on mine, but I doubted the feeling.
Back to my little nap today...during my slumber with my head flopped back on the chair and a few Zs coming out of my mouth, I had a wonderful dream. I dreamt my mother was with me and we were visiting. I could see her. I could feel her. I could touch her. Yet, I knew she was not alive in the same sense I'd known her before. We talked, as live people talk.
I'd had a big screen tv on in the room we were in and I wanted to go sit with her and relax and watch a show with her like she loved to do. All of a sudden, I noticed the big TV was turned off and now a small TV was turned on in a little alcove in the room where we were and she was watching it (she always watched TV on a small TV in her last days).
I spoke to her, and I asked her, "What's it like, Mom (heaven, being dead, being with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, our ancestors, etc.)? Is it really like you thought it would be?" And her tender, sweet reply was, "It's so wonderful. It's everything I imagined and more." I started to ask her if it truly WAS her that touched my hand that day in the temple and just as she said yes, the telephone (in real life, not the dream) rang and woke me up.
I started sobbing. This had been my one true experience where I KNEW my mom had come to visit me and comfort me from beyond the grave. I desperately wanted it to continue, but I must have only been permitted to have that one brief moment with her. I will cherish it forever.