Today was the women's prayer breakfast, and was it ever fantastic! I truly enjoyed everything and my desire to make a total consecration to Mary was confirmed and cemented today. I had a chance to tell my story about coming into the Catholic faith to one of the sisters today and she was moved. It was a very special moment to be able to share how my precious son brought me into the Catholic faith.
His death wasn't just a total shock, it was very horrific. His head was shattered when he was thrown from the tumbling car and basically cracked open. The pressure in his brain was so massive that his brain swelling had crushed the lower cradle where his brain would sit at the base of his skull. He had brain tissue hanging out of both nostrils and was on a ventilator. It was a rotten way for a loving, beautiful, intelligent, funny teenager to die at 16. When they shut off the ventilator (after determining his brain was destroyed and he was clinically brain dead) I watched his heartbeat slowly fade away. I thought that would be the last time we would ever interact but little did I know.
One week to the day after his accident I had a dream. He was upset and had come to me in a dream and told me that he needed "masses said for him". I had no idea what a "mass" was but I was stunned. We weren't Catholic, what could this mean? As I was relating this story to his brother Tony the stereo Tony had setting in the living room started playing what I now know was a Latin Mass. It was very eerie as it was the EXACT moment of my son's accident one week later. So I asked Tony to please shut off the stereo as it was creepy sounding. He went over and I started talking to some of my deceased sons friends and Tony kept calling out to me, "Mom, Mom." Getting frustrated I said, "WHAT?! Why haven't you shut that annoying stuff off?" and he looked at me holding up the cords and speaker wires, "Mom it's not plugged in." Not only was it not plugged in the speakers weren't attached to it at all! All of my son's friends were upset and took off out of the house in terror. My son looked at me and asked, "Mom are you scared?" and I said I wasn't and asked him if he was scared. He said no he wasn't scared at all. Poor Tony, my middle son had lost both his best friend (the driver) and his brother in that horrible rollover accident.
There were other things that happened that showed us Johnny was around but they aren't pertinent to my story so I won't get into them. Johnny came two more times asking for masses to be said and said, "I need them to get where I need to go". He was upset and told me, "Mom I know I died in that accident and I don't want to be dead." He then started sobbing and I held him and then he turned into a vapor and smoke and I woke up sobbing. I was distraught and became mentally unglued. I started thinking that I needed to kill myself in order to cross over and help him. I did mention this to friends who were alarmed and told me that everything would be OK, to hang on and not give up. I railed at God who was my son's murderer in my mind. He KILLED my son and for no good reason. Nothing that ever would or could come out of his death would be worthwhile because the price would have been too high for me to ever see any value in it. It culminated in my sitting alongside the freeway and then walking along the edge right at mile marker 81 on northbound US 23 trying to get up enough nerve to step in front of a truck. The only thing that kept me from doing it was that I would forever ruin that innocent truck driver's life. He would be destroyed and if my body was thrown onto another car, imagine what they would endure? No I could not do that so there was only one option. I would pray each and every morning for God to end my life and while I was waiting for that answer to my prayer I would have tons of masses said for my son Johnny. Through doing that I saw and ad for RCIA and the rest is "history". My dead son brought me to the faith. I still wrestle about my son's death but I know God grieved as much as I did, He longed to comfort me but I wasn't having it for a long time. I stopped praying for God to end my life the day I became a Catholic. In a sense He granted my prayer because I died to my old life and became reborn to a faith that no matter what I did, would never let me go.
Just around the time of the one year anniversary of Johnny's death I had another dream. Johnny was all white and glowing, almost clear...and so happy. He was beaming and smiling. He said, "They told me it's time to go but I can't come and see you anymore. I don't want to leave you if you aren't going to be OK" I told him that it was OK for him to go that, in fact, I could NEVER be OK if I knew he wasn't where he was always meant to be. I told him I would think of him each and every day and my love would endure forever. He said that whenever I hear the word "star" in a song, he is thinking of me at that moment. He kissed and hugged me and said, "I love you mom. I will love you forever. You will always be my mom." And then he was gone and I felt a release, like a heavy weight that broke lose and floated upward. I have never dreamed of him that way since. I guess you can say that this flies in the face of what people are taught about death. You can call me crazy, you can say I made it up but I have no reason to make it up. I'm not cashing in on my experience, on the contrary, no money in the world could have given me what those dreams gave me.
Seeing the sisters today brought back my intense desire to be a nun. I have wanted to be a sister since I was a little girl. I used to pray every night that God would make me a Catholic so I could become a nun and go to heaven. Sadly my student loan debts wouldn't permit me to become a sister and that is a desire that will never be fulfilled in me. I am sad but searching. What is God's will for me? What am I supposed to do for Him with the rest of my life? I have no idea. I hope that someday I can find fulfillment in serving God full-time. That is my heartfelt desire and I am open to whatever He wants for me.
Praise be to God!
