Chapter 9
My mother looked at all of us and then fixed her eyes on me and said, “The visit from my dad, well . . . it was for me. It prepared me for what happened next. Rich, I haven’t even told you about this yet.”
“This oughta be good.” Rich grinned.
Mother looked around the table at each of us with her body language in a familiar motion I had known since childhood. I called it Mother’s “I’m about to tell you a story” stance. She was a talented storyteller—whether she was reading A. A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh to me and my sister or telling us of the latest oddity happening at a family reunion.
“It happened last night while I was asleep. I was deep into my sleep, probably in the REM stage of dreaming. In my dream, I had gone for a walk in our neighborhood, except it was next to Guntersville Lake.
“I am walking along beside the lake when I see a man leaning against our mailbox. I get closer and realize that it’s your dad. I smile at him and ask, ‘Sanders, what are you doing here?’
“‘I came to see you, Diane,’ he said.
“He looked just like the last time I saw him, except his clothes were fresh; his hair was combed; and he wasn’t sweating.”
I looked at Eileen and Rich and explained, “Daddy had a rough night before he left this earth.”
“Rough is the mild way to put it,” said Mother before continuing.
“I looked at Sanders and asked, ‘How have you been?’
“‘I’ve been good, Diane. How have you been?’
“‘I’ve been doing well. I’ve married a man named Rich. It took me two decades after your death before I was ready to marry again.’”
Mother took another bite of spaghetti and then continued. “That’s when I realized, this conversation wasn’t normally how it goes in my dream—this was a conversation I would have if I were fully awake. I asked Sanders, ‘Where are we, Sanders?’
“‘We are in your neighborhood. I’ve been keeping up with Rachel and Dalton. They make me proud.’”
Mother took a sip of water, smiled at our eager faces, and then continued on. “A peace suddenly fell over me. I said to your dad, ‘Rachel has a great husband who treats her right, and Dalton has a wonderful wife full of love. Sanders! You should see your grandchildren; they are such delightful children—full of life and curiosity, just like we were. They are such excellent students with great imaginations. They look so much like their mommas and daddies. Little Ned looks a lot like you.’”
I wiped my suddenly teary eyes, thinking about how much Ned really did look like my dad. Mother took my hand, then began again. “Sanders smiled and said, ‘I’m delighted you found Rich; he is a wonderful man, who is taking excellent care of you. Will you tell Rachel and Ned that I love them and I’m proud of them and the parents they have become?’
“I said, ‘It will delight them to hear from you.’”
Mother looked at me as she said this. Eileen placed her hand on my knee as tears welled up in my eyes.
“Sanders looked out toward the lake, which magically appeared next to us—like we were sitting on the bank of Town Creek. Must be the miracle of dreams—you can move wherever you wish in a flash.
“Then Sanders said, ‘Let them know that the lake will always be special for all of us. I’m always with them. I will always be with all of you.’”
“I told him, ‘We all love you, Sanders. I love you and always will. We will always be with you.’”
“I think that is what he needed to hear. And then I woke up.”
“Oh my goodness, Diane!” said Eileen with her eyes wide in amazement. “That’s amazing! You received a blessing from God. You got to have a visit with your husband who died decades ago. You got two blessings—Sanders and seeing your dad!”
Mother tilted her head and grinned. “Yes, a blessing—that’s a good way to put it.”
I didn’t say much, but I kept shaking my head slowly, filled with astonishing delight of these experiences combined with the whispers from Johnny Bruce. I was too tired to talk about it tonight.
When we wrapped up our dinner together, I asked, “Rich, are you coming back tomorrow to finish the boat?”
“It’s Sunday, but I’m up for some more sweat equity,” he replied, flexing his arms. “I’ll come, too,” said Mother. “I feel something special about that boat, and I’m sure there is something I can do to help.”
I glanced at Mother and then Eileen. She has a feeling about it? Where did that come from?