I dreamed about Tiggy

It’s not something I do very often.

I remember every one. Some more clearly than my memories of him.

He was there, playing with his vroom vrooms, smiling that ornery smile. I went to touch his wispy hair, but he ducked and giggled.

He was there, lying under the table, and still that smile. I kneeled down to reach for him, but he rolled away and giggled.

And so the dream went on. With him happy and full of life and always just out of reach.

But it was different than my other dreams of him. In every other dream, I have been acutely aware of the fact that he is dead.

Some are strange and dark. Where he shows up and I know it can’t be him but it is. And I don’t know what to do because if I tell anyone, I know he’ll be taken from me because no one will believe it is him and that he is my son. And so I hide him in the basement, but I don’t even know how to tell my husband and how long can you hide a toddler in the basement, anyway?

Some carry such relief. I wake up and realize I just forgot him at the hospital. And there’s this mad rush to get everyone ready and I’m stressed and trying to figure out how to explain that I just forgot him there, but really I’m not a bad mother and can I take him home now?

But usually, I know I’m dreaming. Like the first one. The day he died. I fell asleep and was there in the hospital, sitting in the room the nurse had told us he’d be moved to, looking at him in the incubator I imagined he’d be in, listening to the ventilator they told us would be breathing for him. Holding his hand. And waiting. But then I started to wake up and I panicked, because I knew that Tiggy was only there in that dream and if I woke up, I wouldn’t be able to sit with him anymore.

Or the time I sat holding him in a chair in the center of the front room. The house was a mess. Toys and clothes and dishes everywhere. My husband came home and was upset, yelling at everyone. He started to clean and I just ignored him. “You’re not even going to help?” he accused. But I didn’t care. “I only get to hold him until I wake up,” I answered and laid my cheek back against his head where I could smell him for a little while longer.

But this time, I didn’t know. At least not fully. So I just followed, partly amused by the antics of this sweet little boy so full of joy but becoming increasingly distressed that he was always just out of reach. Until I suddenly woke up, staring into the darkness and knowing too well why I couldn’t quite reach him.

About Dana

Dana homeschools her children on five acres in the country with her husband John.
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18 Responses to I dreamed about Tiggy

  1. Ruth Chowdhury says:

    Oh Dana. Dreams can be so good yet so hard. (((Hugs))) What a tease they can be. I hope you’re able to find some comfort in them even through the frustration of knowing they are “just dreams”. I love reading about your sweet Tiggy.

  2. Emily K says:

    My heart hurts for you so much. I can only imagine the pain of having lost one so little.

  3. amber says:

    We still have this mural in our Sunday School classroom that we made the day you visited, and your girls helped create it. I looked at it last week and thought of them, and thought of you, and smiled. Many hugs. <3

  4. April says:

    Oh, Dana. My heart hurts for you, friend. I pray that God brings you comfort as this season of anniversaries and fresh reminders approaches.
    April´s last [type] ..Hymns of Thanksgiving

  5. You break my heart every time I think of you and Tiggy. But then again, I so appreciate you sharing your heart with us. You are such a brave woman. Yes, you are! So, your precious son is wrapped in the arms of the Savior and happily laughing with Him.
    Your sadness is so real, yet so honest and helpful. I am sure that your words are ministering to others who are grieving as well. Your courage is amazing and your writings are much appreciated. With love, Linda

    • Dana says:

      It is hard. I don’t know that I’m particularly courageous and sometimes writing seems the only outlet, but it is nice to know that there are people out there who read and find encouragement, or comfort, or just the desire to slow down and enjoy their children a little more.
      Dana´s last [type] ..I dreamed about Tiggy

  6. angel czerwinski says:

    My heart is so sad for you. I cannot imagine the pain & sadness you & your family feel as you all miss your precious Tiggy. I pray for your entire family often & will continue to do so.

  7. Daryl says:

    The dreams are so vivid that they seem real don’t they? I never lost a child but, I have lost a brother. I cannot even begin to comprehend….my brothers loss was hard enough. Sometimes the dreams bring such comfort…till you wake up and have that longing again.

    I think this is Tiggy’s way of showing you that he’s ok. He loves you so much he wanted to be sure you knew that. Now I don’t have psychic abilities or special powers of any sort….that is just how I choose to see the dreams that my brother “comes” to me in. It’s a bittersweet relief because you WANT them close but, for now, they can’t be. My heart aches for you my friend. Hold tightly to the great memories you have….and yes, there will be days where you have to FORCE yourself to do just that. You, and your family, are all in my prayers.

  8. Eryn says:

    I was thinking about you yesterday. I was thinking about how I hadn’t connected with you on Twitter in a long time. I was wondering about your farm & how it was doing as winter wraps us in its clutches. I was thinking about your strong, lovely daughter. She’s probably a lovely young woman now. I was thinking about Tiggy.

    All this thinking & remembering because my husband is ordering his first bee hive & it reminded me of you.

    My Mama Heart will never cease to break for your loss. You’re in my thoughts.

  9. Ironically, the day after I post a blog post about your amazing family, you are writing about Tiggy. I cried the whole way through reading your post. OH, how my heart goes out to you. Oh, how I just pray that God meets you there. I don’t normally put my webpost in a message. But I wanted to share your story so you could see it as well. Words cannot express enough sympathy and wishes for healing.
    Jill @ Called To Be A Mom´s last [type] ..20 DIY Gift Tags & Wrapping Paper

  10. Pingback: Tiggy’s House: How One Family Paid For A $50,000 House In One Year | CalledToBeAMom.com

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