Tribute To Harold

Jonah had a dream about a week or so ago.  In it, Mom paid him a visit.  She was very childlike, much like she was in her dementia days.  She was holding a white book and she was in a blue room.  Those were the main details Jonah remembers and one other big one: she was coming for someone.

I've learned that Jonah's dreams are not to be ignored.  He's very intuitive and almost psychic, and he has had many dreams that have been precursors to major events.  Two days before his dad died Jonah had a dream that his grandfather came to visit, and he was troubled by the dream because he thought it might be an indication that his dad would pass soon, which he did.

Once skeptical, I've learned to take Jonah's dreams and feelings seriously because he's usually 99% right about the intuitions he's having.

We wondered who Mom might be coming for.  My uncle (Dad's brother) was recently re-diagnosed with cancer.  My great-aunt and great-uncle are both in their late 90s.  I wondered who Mom might be coming for.

Two days ago my sister called my tears telling me that the daughter-in-law of Harold (Mom's pseudo-"boyfriend" from her days in assisted living) had called to let her know that Harold was in hospice care.

My sister wasn't necessarily crying over Harold.  It sounded like she had just had a really difficult and painful couple of weeks overall.  In fact, both my sister and I found much to rejoice in.  Harold, after all, hadn't looked well at all the last time we saw him in January.  He was very depressed and lonely and while I'm sure he never would have acted on it, he even seemed suicidal.  His body and spirit were broken.  It was hard to see him like that.

It gives me great comfort knowing he will be with his late wife soon and that he will get to see Mom again and meet Dad as well.  It makes me happy that he will be free of his suffering.

But it also brought up old feelings (or rather, lingering feelings) of when Mom died, and that has been hard.  I also regret that since I saw Harold in January I never spoke to him again.  I was pretty good about calling him and even attempted to several times, but was never able to get a hold of him.  Still, I know Harold knows how I felt about him, and that must be enough.

A friend of mine at work gave me a good perspective as we talked about how I was feeling.  She said, "It was great that this man was able to help your mom make the transition into assisted living and make her feel good about being there after so much time of not wanting to be there.  I believe your mom is now helping Harold make the transition from his life here, which has become very sad, to his life on the other side, which will be one of happiness."  I liked that.

I will miss you, Harold, and I will be forever grateful for all you did for my Mom and for the special friendship you had.  I'll miss talking to you and sharing stories about Mom.  I'll miss visiting you at the assisted living facility (now I really have no reason to go back there).  I'm glad I got to see you one last time before you leave us.  I'm glad you and Mom were away from each other for only a half a year, and I'm glad you'll get to be reunited again (but don't forget, she's with Dad now).  I love you, my friend.