It's been a long week. The car crash on Saturday put me back a bit. Going to the same ER my son was in challenged me emotionally, certainly more than the physical pain of the impact. I laid on the stretcher and cried from pain, cried from fear, cried from the wretched memories that washed over my mind. In my hand I held a small container of Wyatt's ashes that I always keep with me. It somehow brought me some peace, some comfort,as if he was with me in this place of our most wretched memories, of greatest heartache. Holding his ashes was my only solace...how strange, how sad.
When I was at work later that week, a friend called me and said she had something for me. She came to my office, we sat together and she shared with me that this strong voice had been telling her that she needed to give something to me. She of course prefaced this with "don't think I'm crazy but..." Then she opened her hand and there lay a little white dove it's wings stretched in flight. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Does it mean something?" she asked. Oh yes, it does mean something I began to cry. You see, I associate doves with Wyatt. The moon and doves are my signs that Wyatt is still here, that he is in my life, following me, guiding me through life. I shared with her the story of how, after Wyatt died, I found a small crumpled piece of paper where he had written a quote and "holy spirit dove" as the picture to go with it. Wyatt's friend had this quote and the dove tattooed on his back after Wyatt's death. His former girlfriend had the dove tattooed on her back. I have pondered a tattoo, a dove, to remember my son. I wear a charm engraved with a dove. I could not begin to share how much this little white dove meant to me, but even more amazing, even more wonderful, the greatest gift of all...was that my friend did not close her mind to the voice, but instead kept an open heart as he spoke to her. It was if he knew who could or would be his messenger to tell me that he is ok, he is free. She knew she had to give me the dove and didn't let fear stop her from following the voice and sharing the message. How blessed I am.
Thank you son. Thank you friend.
When I was at work later that week, a friend called me and said she had something for me. She came to my office, we sat together and she shared with me that this strong voice had been telling her that she needed to give something to me. She of course prefaced this with "don't think I'm crazy but..." Then she opened her hand and there lay a little white dove it's wings stretched in flight. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Does it mean something?" she asked. Oh yes, it does mean something I began to cry. You see, I associate doves with Wyatt. The moon and doves are my signs that Wyatt is still here, that he is in my life, following me, guiding me through life. I shared with her the story of how, after Wyatt died, I found a small crumpled piece of paper where he had written a quote and "holy spirit dove" as the picture to go with it. Wyatt's friend had this quote and the dove tattooed on his back after Wyatt's death. His former girlfriend had the dove tattooed on her back. I have pondered a tattoo, a dove, to remember my son. I wear a charm engraved with a dove. I could not begin to share how much this little white dove meant to me, but even more amazing, even more wonderful, the greatest gift of all...was that my friend did not close her mind to the voice, but instead kept an open heart as he spoke to her. It was if he knew who could or would be his messenger to tell me that he is ok, he is free. She knew she had to give me the dove and didn't let fear stop her from following the voice and sharing the message. How blessed I am.
Thank you son. Thank you friend.
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