I am a Christian. Not a creepy, in-your-face- judgemental Christian that I believe gives the faith a bad name these days, but I do believe, and I am not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I believe that Glenn has been born again to a new life, and that I cannot understand exactly what that means.
So what I am going to tell you is going to sound odd. And I ask you not to judge me.
For the first few days and weeks, (although it has only been 18 days), I felt Glenn's presence with me most of the time. Unexplainable things happened. His old cell phone started quacking ( his noise for Henry and Ryan), really it did. Things I couldn't find were shown to me when I said, "Glenn! Where is your wallet?"and I was inwardly directed to a place I would not have looked. The same happened with some dog collars I was searching for the morning after his death.
A week later, I sold our old green van to a wonderful family in a town near here. I got an email from them a few days later that said that even with intense detailing, almonds kept showing up in the back seat every morning. Their kids fought to go out to see how many were there every morning. Glenn always ate almonds thinking they were a healthy snack. I used to tell him that ten are healthy, but fifty were just fattening. The odd part was that we didn't travel in that car. That was my back and forth to school car. I have no idea where the almonds came from. I do know that this family has an autistic child who got great pleasure out of the almond findings. It would be so like Glenn to provide that joy.
Are you convinced yet that I'm losing it? Wait a bit.
The night before last, I finally dreamed about him. In my dream, he was sitting by our fireplace in a tiny chair that he never would have fit in in this life. He was wearing a shirt I had long forgotten about . It was just a fleeting image of a dream, but I thought about it a lot. There was some kind of a goodbye happening, though no words were spoken.
Last night about this time, I had the feeling of a fresh goodbye. I played some of our "private" love songs on You Tube and felt the anguish of fresh grief again. For some reason I felt like he was making the next step in his new journey; one that didn't include contact with this world anymore. It was very painful.
I have no idea why I think this, and I know it has no biblical basis. But it feels very real. I asked him to stay just a little while longer, but I didn't feel an answer. I did have an image of him rubbing my face lovingly, as he did in this life.
I do know that when I woke up today- the fourth of July-something felt different. I packed up some stuff in preparation to turn his office into a room for Henry and Ryan. I called my friend and said that I needed to get rid of his lift chair, the one that I believe he died in. Once again, it represented his limitations, not the heart and soul of the man I loved.
I hope you are not reading this with scorn or condemnation. My beliefs are rooted in Christian theology and not reincarnation. Whether or not my feelings are a by-product of grief or imagination means little. To me they are the truth.
There is a mystery to life... and now I really believe to death.
I'm just going out on a limb.