… Noah lost his life and we lost him. There will never be any glossing over that. And it will never get easier. That much I know.
But he came back to me in a dream ten days ago: I was playing tag with his twin sister Arielle around a very long oblong table in a nondescript apartment I had never seen before. However hard I tried I couldn’t catch up with her and she was laughing and laughing, her long hair swishing around her face as she ran.
Then she stopped and turned. The long hair vanished and I realized it wasn’t Arielle I had been chasing all along but Noah.
He was laughing and his eyes were full of light. He looked straight at me and he said: “You can’t catch me!” I could see he was poised to start running again if I tried. So I just looked into his shiny eyes and stood there, my heart beating fast.
Then I woke up.
My first reaction was sheer joy: wherever he was. Noah was as active as ever and he was having fun.
Then I thought about what he said.
We had just met with the medical team at the hospital regarding my breast cancer and came home with a prognosis and decisions to make. We learned both that there were many reasons to be optimistic and that there were no guarantees.
Noah had come to tell me that I wouldn’t be joining him any time soon. He had come to me with the gift of hope.