the moment that one thing ends… is the same time that one begins… and return as we must we are ashes to dust… amen…
For One More Day is indeed another great book from Mitch Albom… a quick read; but full of insight and takeaways.
I’d been putting off reading this one because I just loved Tuesdays with Morrie so much. So when I did read this one, I decided to read it all in one swoop. I love the quirks he gives to the various characters within his stories. I love how the mother in this story used to slip notes… and how eccentric, classy and defined she was in lieu of heartache and the struggles she encountered… I can relate to her character… she was also in spite of the hardship, a very loveable character.
My take away occurred in the final pages of the book… I thought to myself, “No way… did Mitch get hold of my journal somehow and reshape the story a bit?” You see, I’ve had a very similar experience as Chick did in this story that I experienced with my grandmother. Not sure how to explain it exactly… I just know that there was an ‘echo’… a period of time when I got to see grandma one more time; and I was overcome with a sense of something I can’t even begin to explain… it’s funny… the only person I related the dream sequence to in complete utter detail was my mother and she wasn’t very surprised. In fact, she was strangely open and interested in my experience. My mom is also a woman of faith; she knows my quirks, and knows how to take me in stride. But, she knew this was more than just a dream…
I’d received a small dream analysis book months prior to the dream and following my experience I tried to recap every detail I could recall in effort to try and make sense of it… but I’m still to this day in avail and wonder…
Interestingly enough… my mom related the story to my aunt Julia… a solid, beautiful woman of genuine, unaltered faith… unconditional belief… not so much religious as spiritual… Aunt Julia replied to my mom with the most interesting of comments in her sweet, soft, and special loving voice, “Oh, I am so glad she got to see her again! That is so wonderful for her.” see… she knows too…
I often think that I am able to experience spirituality and my faith in a different uncensored manner than most because of a near-death experience I had when I was a child. I often find that anyone I meet who has had such an experience on the verge of death see things a little bit differently than the majority of folks. It is humbling; and I am very blessed. I think I was able to teeter on the fence for a while… in that ‘in-between world’ so to say… therefore, I have no doubt that there is more to this life than meets the eye… what it is exactly – I don’t know… but, I do know there is something beyond this shell of a body I live in… the soul is forever… the body is just temporary…
So now, my story… I could write this all in a formalized short book/story like Mitch; but for now you’ll just get the shortened “recapped” version… which is still probably too long for a blog… but, whatever… you don’t have to read it… all voluntary here! :)
…
My grandma passed away years ago. I had a lot of problems dealing with the loss of her. A lot of issues with myself, worrying how she sees me now and how I wish things could be a better person. I felt like I was living a lie. I felt like if people really knew how much of a hypocrite I was in life… how unperfected I really was… wouldn’t they just have a field day! I wasn’t perfect. For one of the first times in my life I couldn’t rise above some of my concerns and just fix it. Things were out of control, out of my hands and I couldn’t fool myself any longer. It was a time in my life filled with internal struggle, complete self doubt, depression and trials… I was trying to reconnect with God and my inner child... I was feeling lost… could not find peace… felt alone all of the time… did not have friends… was sinking into a depressive regime that was just going nowhere… I was starting my master’s degree, experiencing this profound loss of my dear grandmother, and bombarded with new problems including the crude realization and initial admittance to my dissipating marriage…
But, on the outside, everything was perfect. I lived in the perfect mansion in the high society side of town. Traveled to Aruba, Jamaica, and other great places for vacation. Was making way too much money at a job that I used to love… Everything from the outside would appear just PERFECT to the average onlooker. But all of my internal struggles were taking their toll and completely bottled up inside of me… the hidden “ugly” truth that nobody but I could see… but now, I knew SHE could… it was mortifying to say the least! This woman, my grandmother, was my mentor, my role model, everything good in the world. She was a lady of great faith, even a pastor, which was/still is very uncommon for women… I loved her unconditionally and she was perfect in my eyes; and still is to this day…
My grandma was the one who recognized me during a church service…. I was very little. I was scared… it was just a church service… that came to a point when people started making their way up to the altar to pray and receive Christ. I didn’t really know what was happening… all I knew was that I had to do something important then and there… it is one of my earliest childhood memories I can recall beside the hospital dream incident which I will describe in more detail. But, there in the church on that night, I felt like my whole world and being was spinning out of control. I needed something, but didn’t know what or how to make it happen. I cannot describe how I felt exactly; I wasn’t even listening to the service… all I knew was that there was something going on around me, in the air, in my body… something way too familiar and I was completely freaking out in panic knowing there was something that I just HAD to do…
My grandma knew this somehow… I don’t know how it happened… she just came up to me where I was in one of the back pews in the church, took me by the hand and we sat down in the back of the church and prayed, talked, and in the brief moments that followed… my life was complete, full, changed, peaceful and I have never felt something as profound or even similar since. I have no idea how to describe it exclusively. It was miraculous.
This moment with Grandma immortalized her and I… bonded her with me forever somehow… I suppose I always felt that I could never be a good enough person in her eyes if she knew all of my flaws. When she passed away I felt as thought I had really let her down and I tortured myself for a year wishing I was a better person now that she could see me from the other side of life.
…
It was exactly one year after her death when I had the dream. I prayed that night before I slept – a prayer like many before – for forgiveness and for strength to be a better person. And, like many nights prior, my asthma was growing increasingly worse and had now reached constant night coughing episodes. I often woke at night from a sound sleep to the episodes of grasping my breath and frantically trying to find one of the five albuterol inhalers that littered my bedside. I retired to bed early that night and fell asleep after reading some of my favorite passages and writings; which wasn’t a normal practice for me.
The sequence of the dream began as me looking through a large glass window (sort of like a store front window). My grandmother was sitting inside… in a waiting room area… knitting. The blanket she was knitting was draped over her legs to keep her warm. There was a glass door entrance, but the door would not open. There appeared to be no entry into the room. I could watch her but she couldn’t see me or my mom who was standing beside me as we stood outside the door looking in on her. I couldn’t get her attention even though I tried to knock on the windows feverishly. I wanted to talk to her again… just one more time… to say goodbye… to touch her… to hug her… to just be in her presence again… I loved her so much.
I remember feeling how lucky I was to be able to just see her again! Really ‘see’ her, so clearly… just as the last day I’d seen her at the hospital before she passed away. And all the details were as a normal a scenario as I can describe… not dreamlike at all. She looked like she was waiting for something to happen… as if she were in a doctor’s waiting room. As I stood outside of the window looking in with my mom, I realized that no one could see her but me; not even my mom. The next thing I remember was walking down a hallway and directed into my grandmother’s room at the end of the hall. My grandma was sitting up in a bed, dressed all in white… she was radiant… just beautiful! I could see every detail, every line in her beautiful face. I immediately grabbed her and hugged her so tight – tears just flowed from my eyes as I shouted out in an embrace with her, “I love you grandma!” “I am so sorry, I am so sorry that I haven’t been a good enough person.” I told her that I was so sorry for the things I’d done wrong in life – the things I feel so bad about – for not be a good enough person, a better Christian, and I asked her, “Please forgive me! I am so sorry.” I have never had a dream so intense in my life… and have not had one as such since then either.
I could feel her and hear her beautiful voice – she was comforting me and nurturing me. I could feel her holding my hand. Her beautiful graceful hand with veins and age spots and beautiful petite nails… I can picture it all so clearly. She was holding my hand so tight I momentarily woke up with a strong sense of my right hand being squeezed lovingly and supporting. It was such a wonderful, but, profound feeling… a moment of complete comfort and peace flowed through every inch of my body. I was completely at peace following that dream and the feeling remained with me significantly strong for days thereafter. I feel that I was somehow transformed, maybe even forgiven… that I was ok… that everything was ok. And I was filled with a complete sense of peace and a knowing that I cannot even begin to describe in words. It was just bizarre, incredible, and new!
I read the following passage in Mitch’s book and my heart skipped a beat… my throat swelled…
“I’m lost.” My mother moved closer. Her voice softened. ‘Have you ever dreamt of someone who’s gone, Charley, but in the dream you have a new conversation? The world you enter then is not so far from the world I’m in now.’ She put one hand on mine. ‘When someone is in your heart, they’re never truly gone. They can come back to you, even at unlikely times.’ …
Then the book character goes on later toward the end of the book to tell his mother his deepest concerns and shame… “How sorry… how I’m so… so… sorry…” he described himself confessing to his beloved mother… sobbing uncontrollably emptying himself wailing… then… “Perdonare.”… the message of the book…
“forgive yourself…”
I couldn’t believe this… I was reading a recap of the events and the things that happened so similar in my very own dream with my grandmother…”How is this possible?” I thought. This book has hit a spot with me… weird!!! … Then the book ended with this…
“there’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall, how a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, sometimes hard and heartbreaking.” … similar to my personal creed to, “remember that everyone has a story that will break your heart; and everything happens in motion the way it was intended…”
This book acted as a confirmation of my faith, belief and knowledge that my grandma loved me enough to come back and make sure I understand her love, forgiveness, and most importantly to make sure to forgive myself.
About a month following the dream I visited an asthma specialist regarding my growing asthma problems… They conducted the full-fledged allergy test on me… results indicated many different things I was allergic to… many tests were administered thankfully… I was to find out that I was deathly allergic to latex paint, dust, mold and beef. They prescribed me medications at once, including a huge needle lifesaving weapon that I was assigned to carry with me at all times! This… and a nice pretty medical alert bracelet. : ) Oh brother!!!
So after the fact, there remains this to consider… I’d been remodeling and painting the house around the timeframe of the dream. The paint was latex-based, the air surrounding me and every room in the house contained dust from sanding, and the house itself is planted in the woodsy sand dunes aligning the Lake Michigan shoreline; lined with moss and mold. All of these factors, especially the paint, was sending me into the abrasive asthmatic spells and loss of breath each night… and maybe… just perhaps… sent me into ‘echo’ so I could see my dear grandmother… for one more day…
Love wins! Love always wins!
Anyara-Aphorisms:
Aquarius’ Quote for Christmas: “Remembrance, like a candle...burns brightest at Christmas Time.” - Charles Dickens
Godspeed!
~ jill marshon
