A Flock of Dove and a White Dress

Jacquelyn Small said we are not human beings learning to be spiritual; we are spiritual beings learning to be human.

Well I, for one, know that I am learning every day how to be both spiritual and human. As a spiritual being living a human life I spend too much time focusing on the human aspects of life (as well I should...I think) & I find myself forgetting about my spiritual self. Keep in mind that I am not talking about religion, but the spirit inside me. That energy, or life force, that was created and will live forever.

Then just as I am coasting along in this human existence something happens to shake it all up, to challenge me. As I mentioned in the previous blog post, we brought Cheyenne home after she was born and woke that first morning at home to a loud unfamiliar & somewhat annoying sound. When I opened the blinds I saw a HUGE flock of dove sitting in perfect soldier-like formation along the top of the entire fence line around the back yard. They had never been there before & it was truly a sight to see. As the next few years rolled by they became a permanent part of the family. Our dove.

When Cheyenne was 13 months old we had her baptized into our faith. Do we believe that it is a necessity to enter into heaven? No. We did it because we wanted to make a public commitment to her that we would raise her with the Holy Spirit. We would teach her to love, to be kind, to forgive, & most of all to know that she will never be alone because she was created by God.

(My MIL with her mom, Cheyenne, & me)

I made her baptism dress from scraps of dupioni silk left over from my wedding dress that my mom had made me. While I was working on the dress I had a vision that rattled me to my very core. I instantly stopped working & called my twin. Through my tears I described the vision I had of Cheyenne laying in a casket & wearing that white dress I was making. My sister talked me down off that cliff so well that I forgot all about it & went on in my human life with great joy...exactly what I should have been doing.

But that all changed two years later. Cheyenne passed suddenly from congestive heart failure at 3.5 years old. We drove home from the hospital without her & I remember so clearly that my color vision had gone. I was only seeing in black & white. The next morning, when I woke, the house was so quiet. No sounds of Cheyenne playing, or food cooking, ...or dove. I ran to the back window & opened the blinds. They were gone. Just like my little girl, the beautiful dove were all gone.

The funeral home called to tell us we had to bring something to dress her in for the funeral. I had no idea what to take. It was at that moment that my sister jumped up & said "I do!" She ran upstairs to Cheyenne's closet & pulled out the white dress. It still fit Cheyenne since she had not grown a lot & I made it kinda big in the first place. So we took the beautiful silk dress to the funeral home & they dressed my first born for her burial.

As I sat in church several weeks later, thinking how the absence of the dove was a constant reminder of Cheyenne's absence (as if I needed reminding), the pastor made a sudden & random reference to the holy trinity & the role of the dove. He reminded me that the dove was the Holy Spirit on Earth sent down to witness us as we lived our human lives. It was at that moment that it all made sense to me. Those dove were there to witness her life. When she went home so did they. Their job was done. Her job was done.

...and mine must continue.

STYX, Live! ...The Universe always has a plan.

 In 1999 I began noticing my oldest daughter, Cheyenne, our rainbow, was not looking so well. She was lethargic, had red circles under her eyes, an ear infection (first & only of her life) and her belly began looking like one of those children in a 3rd world country who has not eaten in days...bloated. Cheyenne loved watching two bands' live dvd concerts: Fleetwood Mac & Styx. She knew all the words to all the songs but would only sing if she thought we were not around. She begged us daily to take her to a Styx concert & we promised we would the next time they came to town.

 What I didn't notice was that she was dying. She was suffering from congestive heart failure due to a genetic defect. She was only 3 years old. The doctors kept saying she just had a virus. Finally I told her that if she didn't get better she would have to go back to the doctor & she said "No mommy, I need to go to the hospital".  Then she got up on the couch next to me, told me to get Daddy, and said I needed to listen to the words to the next song. I waited for it to begin & it was Lady, by STYX. When her daddy came downstairs she said "Sit down daddy, listen to the words, sing the words and listen daddy". It was Come Sail Away, another STYX song. We were oblivious. We didn't understand what she was getting at but we listened.

 The next day we took her to the hospital. Two days later she was gone, climbing aboard that starship with a gathering of angels who invited her to come sail away. Somehow we missed out on our pot of gold, but we try, oh Lord we try, to carry on.

 Last night we went to see them in concert, how many times we've gone I have no idea. We enjoyed the show, rocked like everyone else in the Arena Theater, but unlike anyone else we cried. I made it through Lady OK, but when they did Come Sail Away I was desperately clinging to my camera & photo of Cheyenne, our Rainbow, but eventually gave in & totally broke down.

 I miss her and her sister, Emily so much I can't stand it some days. What gets me through, both of us, is that a tiny 3 year old, who was just developing the ability to communicate, found a way to prepare us for her departure. We are so blessed to have had both our girls in our lives, been chosen as their parents, seen the light of God in their eyes, and observed Cheyenne's total fearlessness and comfort with the knowledge that she was going away from us. She was an old soul with a deep understanding of the ways of God & the universe. She was our teacher & through her we learned to be strong, have faith, and count our blessings.

 So every time the band comes to Houston we go, we sing, we grieve. We also act like silly groupies desperately trying to get notes to the band to let them know our story. Last night we waited outside, met a few of their team, though not them, & we got our note on the tour bus. Now it is in God's hands...and a certain little rainbow's. If they actually read our note and check this blog (as requested in the note) we will know we had some help getting it to them.

 Speaking of help, cameras with detachable lenses (such as mine) were not allowed in. My husband had my bigger lens tucked away in his coat pocket & my smaller lens & camera body were in my purse. We made it through two metal detectors & a purse search. The cop handled the camera but never took it out of the small purse nor questioned me about it. Nick's coat is covered in metal snaps & should have set off the detectors but it didn't. I guess a certain little rainbow wanted to be sure we got our pictures!

I got nearly 300, not all so great, but deciding which ones to use was difficult! These were my choices today, I'm sure they would be different tomorrow. Oh well, you get the idea. It was a great night, ending with the sudden realization as we were driving home that that big black bus next to us was them leaving town after the show! Yes, we acted like idiots, two middle-aged people honking & waving as we road along side them until our exit off the freeway came & we had to say goodbye...again.

Perhaps we didn't miss out on our pot of gold after all!

One final note: as a student in England back in '85 I met Tommy Shaw on a street corner, visited, and went on with no idea what lay ahead. Then 10 years later my husband & I met him again after seeing a show in Houston & he remembered the meeting in London, but still I had no idea what lay ahead. I would love to sit down and visit with him about the deeper meaning of life in all this!