Dreams of Grayson

Grayson's casket, 6-1-2018_0223

For months Hubby suffered the worst of agonies, pain so intense I wondered how he could possible take it and remain sane. Eventually he demanded release. From dialysis, from insulin, from any treatments to prolong his life and suffering. He blew me a kiss and told everyone, “The wife gets it all.”

And I didn’t learn until later that he, a Protestant, took confession from a Catholic priest at the hospital. I realize he was saying, “I’ve served my time in hell; now I’m knocking on heaven’s door.”

Home hospice is a wonderful service. Ministered to by loving nurses, by wonderful relatives, and me, Grayson declined rapidly, from joking on his first day home, to passing over a week later.

I dreamed I was letting him go, and that day is the day he left us. The Neptune Society came, placed him in a casket, draped it with a flag in honor of his military service, then folded the flag and gave it to me.

He was my buddy, my best friend, and I missed him terribly and wondered what it was like for him on the other side. Weeks later I had a dream that showed his application to heaven had been accepted. He was astonishingly beautiful. Youthful, healthy, joyful, and busy. He was carrying a tray of pastries and giving me more than I could eat.

I’m a natural skeptic. Was the dream wishful thinking? Whether or not, I cherished it and wanted to believe he is in a beautiful place in every way.

Months later I read a list in online Readers Digest of those who’d had near-death experiences and wrote books about it. In the site Trendingly, I read of the neurologist who had died and came back, with evidence that his experience of the afterlife was real.

That helped me believe my dreams of Grayson. In the next one, I was resting in the arms of my hubby. It was a protective embrace, nonsexual but loving. And he was letting me know that he was releasing me from my wedding vows, just as I had released him. “Til death do us part.” The marriage had ended. Nevertheless love never dies. His protection and love would be with me, as if from a guardian angel.

So now I accept that my dreams of Grayson are true. I’m grateful he is thriving. And I feel a subtle sense of protection and love. It gives me a peace I’d been lacking. Perhaps I will always miss my buddy. Since his passing, I am more easily moved to tears, not only for myself but out of compassion for others who suffer. And not a day goes by but I don’t think of him and cherish his memory. Just as when he was here in this life, I still enjoy talking about him. My buddy, my hubby, my love.

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