Acceptance

 

It’s all about acceptance.

- Bekah, in her diary

 

02-13-02

I was tormented by dreams all night or entertained by dreams all night. In one dream I lived at a house by the ocean, and right in front of my house was a stone jetty, which had been paved with concrete so that the walk on the jetty was easy into the water, almost –

 

At one point Bekah was at the door. She was matter-of-fact, neither happy nor sad, loving nor hateful. She said she was there because the battery on her cell phone died.

 

I heard her voice.

 

I hugged her. I felt her substance. But she did not hug me back. Then I was at the table with Carolyn and Curtis. I was telling them that Bekah had been at my door (in my dream?) and that I saw her, heard her, and felt her. They had a box of Christmas presents – crafts – that had fallen apart. I found a piece of one of them, which was a present for a son of a niece of Curtis’s, after they had started to argue over whether that person’s present was even made.

 

Either before or after that I had seen that four very young children were wandering onto the jetty. I worried about their safety but did nothing. Very shortly their mother was chasing them and chastising them or someone else for letting them go that far without her.

 

At the same time or just before, or just after – musta been after because it segued into the last part of the dream. Crowds of school children coming off a boat right there. Mostly kids, school kids.

 

Then I was a teacher. But their original teacher had gotten her good name back and just as I said, “I have a very important announcement to make,” preparatory to giving the class back to her, I woke up.

 

When I saw Bekah I was full of joy and I hugged her but she didn’t hug me back – after I woke up I was stung by her lack of response whereas while I was sleeping I was only full of joy that she was there.

 

 

02-17-02

 

My Dearest Bekah,

As you no doubt know I am just letting my hair down for a minute while Carolyn goes to Huntington Beach. Tyler will be here in two or three hours and she, you (? I hope sweetheart!),and I will be flying up to WA at six o’clock tomorrow morning.

 

I loved the sunset so much last night…Bekah I just felt it so hard! that you were there, making pictures with the clouds. First the turtle, then the heart. And I LOVED that Rory saw the turtle too Bek!

 

Just made me feel it even more. It was such a wildly emotional few days, winding up with Carolyn and I having the worst fight I can recall us having since I was a child.

 

I’ve thought much about it since…and yes I have no doubt been hard to live with. The days leading to Friday were full of Friday. And they played us all right! big time babe.

 

That might be a second reason I haven’t written (the first being that Carolyn inhibits me somehow – I feel so unvalidated – more on that by and by). I did fail you Bekah. I know you are well and that all is good with you. That is to say that I know that as well as I can.

 

I’ve all the faith I can muster is yet a third way to say it. After our wonderful dream Tuesday night Herman praised my progress – he said the dream is VERY meaningful. Very-very! Because what it means dear girl is that over six months after your murder your mother has completed the first leg of her journey through the desert of despair:

 

I have achieved acceptance.

 

When he told me that it seemed very clear, clearly the correct interpretation. Also why you did not hug me back: you are ready to move on, your mom is not quite ready to release you.

 

Oh, baby. Baby, baby, baby girl. As my faith evolves and grows truer and firmer within me the emotional permission that I granted you in writing – what a month ago already? will follow.

 

Sometimes I wish you could be physical again. Be as solid and you as in that precious unforgettable dream. Then I would really know, things that I already know but that I have a hard time asserting even to myself when somebody wants to tell me otherwise.

 

But as I protested advice I should know better than to listen to on Wednesday, Herman reminded me of the way to go. The book he quoted is titled Shoot the Buddha and this is what I mean:

 

Two people so far have charged me with causing you pain by virtue of my momentous grief. No, neither has lost a child, or even had one. The first was the Reiki healer I met through Janet. She’s developing her mediumship abilities and it was when she told me that my great and continuing grief was causing you “physical” pain that I knew it was not your spirit with whom she was communicating…in fact I believe it was just her own feelings that were so strong to make me well that inspired her words.

 

Now when she explained Reiki to me she spoke with her hands a lot. And I felt the energy on my leg several times. When I asked her if she had lost a child (she has none), she said, “My father died.”

 

“I lost my father and mother both by the time I was 25 years old,” I said. “Walk in the park.”

 

So that was number one. First of all she could not give me any truly validating information. Second, she tried to make me feel guilty toward you because my grief hadn’t gone away yet – and this was before Christmas.

 

The second was a fellow writer at WBM. Similar: a spiritually adventurous free thinker, whose heart is in the right place, but – either because she feels so confident regarding the “correct” nature of her personal beliefs, or because she does not have a clue because she is not a mother at all let alone a bereaved mother [this person wrote to me that Bekah was in just as much pain as I was. Both advised me that she would not be able to "move on" until I recovered fully]. I think she has lovely theories and I agree with much of her work that I  have read. I also do not doubt that she has mediumship abilities. I should add that in both cases I trust a genuine desire to apply their gifts helpfully. But they forgot or never considered the fact that they have not got a clue or even a SHOT at a clue…both forgot empathy in the zeal of their sympathy.

 

Because, Bekah, if any soul knows that I toil arduously toward the grail of grief recovery it is you. If anyone appreciates that my mourning is not protracted it is you. If anyone would notice that to accuse a grieving mother of causing her recently deceased child pain in the afterlife can NEVER lead to healing, it is you. amen

 

Such that I have absolute faith that if nothing else you will not try to reach me for the purpose of letting me know you are in pain – no, no, just the opposite! And maybe that is why messages have been few or iffy, though I also TRULY believe that you will find a way to remember your other loved ones, some of whom as I am sure you know have not yet gained acceptance.

 

That is our accomplishment, Bekah…yours, mine, my counselor’s, my group’s, this pen, this ink, these wearying fingers.

 

Acceptance is a major accomplishment and I recognized that I had covered ground. Though I have been all along because I write it…I have crawled, crept, fell, inched. Gone backward. Fought it and that was just REFLEX  Bekah! Oh, yeah, death does go on, but not your daughter – not murdered – not just barely 21!

 

Not       not        not       not        not        Not       not        not        not        not        not

 

Not       not        not        not        not        Not       not        not        not

 

That’s just pure reflex baby because your death before mine flies in the face of nature’s pretty picture. Nature designs without taking into account the profound imperfection of what we like to believe is the most “advanced” life form on this particular planet.

 

No, nature plots, paints, writes fates of perfection…then people like pure cosmic, universal, astral spoiled brats, just dash that canvas with their ills and their evils and their wars and their murders and on and on.

 

On and on. And you’ve returned to pure Nature, the parallel dimension. Justice was laid on you like a warm wrap upon your arrival. And your Love, Bekah, it does keep you living. Though I am at acceptance I daresay your love keeps me hoping to someday live. I love you Bekah forever, with my heart my soul my wide eyes and “our” dreams. mom