When I was in my thirties, I
would have been a bit sceptical about relationships continuing after death, but
I am older now and perhaps wiser. The things I have witnessed and experienced
have changed my perspective. Today, I have a tendency to agree, that some form
of relationships manage to continue on regardless of death.
I was very close to my son and when he died in a vehicle accident at the tender
age of 17, I thought I would never see him again nor hear his voice, but I was
wrong in my assumption. Life often holds more for us than we could ever imagine,
and God in his wisdom, gives us opportunities we might need to heal and to move
forward. Sometimes those opportunities include communications from a loved one
who has died!
After the death of my only son, Jason, trying to find balance, meaning and
comfort in my life was a slow, arduous, and a complex process. I had
communication with Jason in the first three months after his death. Five years
passed but Jason was never far from my thoughts. One day, the pain of missing my
son returned so abruptly I broke down, sobbing. Between huge gulps, I spoke to
God in prayer, begging Him to give me a dream where I could once more see my
tall, beautiful, blond-haired son. I pleaded. I begged. I cried. “It is very
easy for you, God. This is so simple. Please, please give me this dream. I miss
him so much. All I ask for is a hug. That’s easy for you, just one hug in a
dream.” I cried on and begged as if my life depended upon this one thing. In
those five years since his death I had dreams every night, but not once had
Jason been in any dream. I ached with a mother’s heart, yearning to see my son,
to hold him, if only in a dream.
God answered my prayers and I indeed got my dream. Strangely though in my dream,
Jason was much younger – he might have been seven years old. In the dream I was
chastising him for something he had done. I said, “Jason don't do that. Do you
want to get killed?"
And this little blue-eyed boy, my son, looked at me and spoke the most
compelling words he ever uttered, “But Mom, death isn't forever"
I awoke and immediately felt upset. I thought, “Five years without a dream and
now I don't even get a hug!” Then as I became more fully awake, it dawned on me
I’d just been given something far better. Jason had returned to me as a child to
comfort me. My son had given me words that have filled me with hope again and
again ever since that night. Any time I ache for reassurance and comfort, I need
only recall that one sentence from Jason, “But mom, death isn’t forever.”
Ellie Braun-Haley shaley@telusplanet.net
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