It's 3 weeks today since David died. Last Saturday,in the hours between his wake and a final gathering of close friends, I found out my tiny nephew Hunter, only a month old, died of SIDS.
If I am a mermaid, I am swimming in a sea of sorrow. David was, in his words, "part of my soul fabric". If it wasn't true, I would have thought it to be a great pick-up line.
For anyone that reads this and wonders if life exists after death, I will tell you the last gift that David gave me. He knew well the trauma of my father's passing when I was a little girl. He knew he reminded me of him. He died just after 1 am, 3 weeks ago, and I woke that morning with the following dream..
I walked into the hospital, and there was no name on his door. I was filled with dread, and walked back to the nursing station and said, "I'm here to see David Adams." The woman behind the computer was black, with high cheekbones and a full face. She typed for a moment, then wordlessly shook her head with eyes filled with compassion. "It's ok," I said, "I know he's gone."
The next morning I went to see David before work. I told the volunteer downstairs "Room 227". I went upstairs, past the nurses station, and walked to his door. There was no name on it, and I walked to the nurses station...
My dream unfolded in front of me.
I know it was David who sent me the dream, just to prepare me. I know he is still part of my soul fabric. I cannot talk to him in my world anymore, but he still exists.
I wish I could give comfort to my niece, and my sister, about Hunter. I didn't see his sweet little face, or smell his baby scent. I don't know why he left the earth. Tomorrow is his funeral, and I am haunted by the image of a pristine white coffin, so infinitely small, sealed with a blue ribbon.
I will go to Assateague, where the Indians believed souls ascended to Heaven, and throw white roses into the waves.
Rest well, David & Hunter.