“Look for me wherever you go. I’ll show up once in awhile, out of the blue.” – Braden

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I thought the dreams were gone, only to return now with more frequency. Once again, our son is right next to me, indescribably real. So real, I now refer to them as “meetings”. Usually he’s still a teen, and other times again that beautiful little boy, his uniquely brilliant smile gleaming. During a few of our meetings he’s grown older. A handsome young man we never had the blessing to know. Each dream version of our son is different, yet each meeting the same. For a brief vanishing moment, I can touch him and tell him how I miss him. These dreams are a love/hate thing I equally desire yet dread. Something only another parent could fathom.

These particular dreams began happening seven years ago and eventually stopped. Lately, they’ve resumed and in our most recent meeting, I told him about our nightmare. How we thought he had died. About the impact of his absence on each one of us. How faith grew and changed his dad’s perspective on God, and how that God had turned dark into day. In this dream, Braden didn’t say a word, but his eyes were flooded with silent tears. I’m not sure if they were regret or gratitude. Maybe both. Then as suddenly as he had appeared, reality faded into view as my eyes opened and he wasn’t there. Robbed again by another cruel dream. I’m beginning to think these will be part of my remaining days. Like a soldier returning home safely from war, yet never again the same.

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I know friends who have lost siblings, parents, and sadly too many who have lost a child. They are comforted to see loved ones in everyday places and various forms. Some are seen in a hummingbird in the backyard. Some are butterflies lighting on a hand and lingering longer than normal. Others feel their loved one in the lyrics of a favorite song. I can relate to each and believe they are real. Mine happen when I’m not looking for him and in the most random moments. This sounds weird but it’s true. He appears to me through other kids.

I recently saw him on a plane. He was playing a video game and frustrated each time he lost. During the four hour flight he said nothing and seemed lost in his world of technology. Later in a cafe, I caught a glimpse of him at a crowded table. His hairstyle was unkempt and he seemed just a little uncomfortable though the other kids at his table looked confident and sure. In such moments, the father in me would love to go talk with that kid and assure him life will be different someday and to just hang in there.

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Away on vacations, we often meet other families. This week we met a young father swimming with his new baby girl. He introduced himself and our conversation moved to Caitlin and her plans for the future. As often happens, the inevitable question arose. “Do you have any sisters or brothers?” I always feel that sting of pain and silently listen for her response, knowing she hasn’t got an easy reply. Her answer has always been a yes, but for the first time I heard her say, “No”. I understood, but the response rang in my ears. This young dad was probably having the very best day of his life, certainly not deserving it to be dampened needlessly.

Later, I assured Caitlin that she had done the right thing, knowing that she certainly did have a brother. When I’m asked if we have other children, I have the same awkward hesitation. As I thought more about it, I believe our son is there in such uncomfortable moments. This time I hadn’t seen him in this child, but Braden was absolutely in words that fell out of my mouth. As the dad gently guided his tiny baby girl, I could see her future. She’d have trials and successes they never could expect in life. I’m confident she’ll eventually become a strong swimmer and certainly cherished by her parents. I looked this proud young father in the eyes and out of the blue, Braden spoke.

“Enjoy each and every moment. Trust me, you’ll never regret the time spent with your child”.

To parents: Time is precious. Invest it well.