When Angels Visit

  Last night I had the sweetest dream. All 3 of my boys were outside playing in our field. I could see Wyatt’s face and could see that he had brown eyes. I could hear his little voice yelling with his older brother.
  It was the most bizarre feeling, because I knew in my head, while I was sleeping that this was just a dream; however, it felt so real as if it was a memory that I was replaying in my mind.
   We never got to see his eye color or hear him. I’m aware that anything I saw or heard was purely my imagination, but it was wonderful.
  When I awoke this morning, my heart was heavy at first. I really wanted to get up, go into the room that Barrett and him were going  to share, and see him peacefully sleeping. I knew that wasn’t reality and the reality is that all I have are my dreams. Maybe that was his way of showing me that he’s ok and that he is running and talking and playing up in the clouds. Maybe, just maybe.
  It got me thinking about those moms and dads that saw their little angel alive before they handed him or her back to the Lord. Does knowing their eye color or knowing what their cry sounds like make the hurt worse? I doubt it; I’m sure it’s just a different hurt. For them, that cry may be what tortures them one moment and then brings a smile to their face the very next. For me, a silent crowded room tortures me. It’s getting easier to endure silent moments, but I’ll always wonder what it would have been like to have any sound fill that room.
   The Race to Remember was about a week ago, and it was an enjoyable, sweet time this year. It probably helped that I was really distracted, but I found calmness in that I’m not the only one walking around randomly thinking about things for a child that isn’t on Earth. This week my oldest has been going to sleep with our Wyatt Bear because he is “scared.” Wyatt Bear helps watch over us and protects us. Maybe that’s why I had that dream. Maybe he’s showing me that everyone’s alright and he’s got his big brother at night. I’d rather not have my own personal angel in heaven, but since I do, it’s good to know he’s still talking to us down here. With love- Heather

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