Pure Fear

Something happened in our house last night that will be hard to forget for a while. It is slightly embarrassing (for me) to tell this story, but it is so incredible, I feel like I have to share. I need to give you a little bit of background and some set-up so you can see why the events unfolded the way they did.

BACKGROUND:

We have a 2 year old miniature schnauzer named Einstein. He is outside in our fenced back yard most of the time during the day, but we usually let him inside the house sometime during the evening, then he sleeps in a crate in our dining room. He enjoys Emma, likes Lara and Jake, tolerates Britt, and LOVES me. Especially now that I am pregnant; he is always sitting at my feet or following me through the house.

Women have vivid dreams during pregnancy. I was reading about it the other day, and 2 things happen during pregnancies that cause this. Hormones are CrAzy, and experts think that’s what causes the dream to be so real, and so strange sometimes. Plus, pregnant women seem to remember their dreams more because they either don’t at all or don’t as often go into that deep sleep phase that humans have, that comes after the dream REM sleep phase. I’ve had some super real to me, and some super strange ones, too…

I am a Twi-hard. I have read the Stephanie Meyer Twilight series books through twice, almost done with the 3^rd time around. And I have seen the movies dozens of times. I was with a group of about 10 women age 35+ for a midnight showing when Eclipse came out, and I will be at one for Breaking Dawn part 1 as well. (My boss can tell you how many days/hours/minutes away this is, I just know it is in November…) BTW, I am Team Jacob. Real men don’t sparkle, and I like my men tall, HOT and feisty!

SCENARIO

I had gone to bed about 9:30. It was a LONG day yesterday (9 hours with sorority girls during recruitment spirit week – working hard to perfect everything for recruitment next week, and then swimming lessons with Jake, then out for a quick dinner, then birthday shopping for Dad with the 3 littles. OH! And growing a human inside me.). I ate too much for dinner, (which means I ate about 1/3 of what I used to), and I was feeling pretty miserable about it. The kids had all been in bed about half an hour, there was nothing on TV, and no reason to resist, so I went to bed, trusty Kindle in my hand, settled in to read a few pages of my current guilty pleasure: Breaking Dawn. (For those in the know, Bella had just woken up from being turned, had hunted, and was meeting Renesmee for the first time. She had just realized what was going on with Jacob when I put it down…) I was worn out from my day, and I feel asleep very quickly. One of the things I usually do before I go to bed, is crate the dog. If he is already inside, I just tell him to “go to bed” and he saunters over there and gets in the crate, and I close the door and hook the latches. If he is outside, Britt usually lets him in, Einstein finds me, I pet him a bit, then I tell him to “go to bed.” When I went to bed, the dog was still in the backyard.

WHAT HAPPENED

It was about 10:30pm. I had only been asleep 20-30 minutes, but I was fast asleep and dreaming. It was hot (as usual) in our room, and I was sweaty. (I know at 9:30 Britt had said it was still 104 outside.) These days, I like to sleep in a T-shirt and underwear, no sheets on top of me, curled up with my body pillow. All I know is, something fairly heavy and furry, with sharp claws, landed on top of me, and began prodding my bare legs with something wet, squishy, and cold. I sat straight up and let out a blood curdling scream (3 times, to be exact according to my husband), and the offensive thing jumped or fell from my bed. During the 3^rd (?) scream, I hear my husband’s soothing voice coming down the hallway saying “Hey! Hey!”

Um, yeah… so, pretty funny, right? It is now, but right then, it was TERRIFYING! Once Einstein left and Britt got his arms around me, I realized tears were streaming down my face, my throat was sore (that’s how loud I screamed), I tasted vomit in my mouth, and I had dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands. Jake came out of his room (right next to ours) and was standing bleary-eyed in the hall staring at me (my screams scared the crap out of him, and he ended up sleeping with us for a bit – who can blame him!). The dog was at the other end of our 17 foot hallway, sitting (and laying at times) on the tile entryway looking down the hall at us, but he came nowhere near me, until Britt put him in his crate for the night and came to bed. I am not sure what exactly I was dreaming about, but I am pretty sure it had to do with a forest (I remember trees), and due to the content of my late night reading, I am sure it was supernatural…) Took me over an hour to get comfortable and get back to sleep. NOT something I want to repeat anytime soon.

Someday, I’ll tell you about the only other time I remember screaming like that (I need to ask my mom what happened in my childhood to make me scream like that?!?). It involves a late night drive from Dallas to Stillwater, the I-35 bridge over the Red River, and a pedestrian. That time I again scared my husband out of his wits, but I truly believe the Holy Spirit spoke to me that night…. Sigh…. Some other time, then…

Anyway! It is TAX FREE weekend! We are soon off to buy dance shoes for the girls, attend mock recruitment at the sorority house, head to the outlet mall that just opened in Oklahoma City (maybe) to back to school shop for the girls, then dinner out for Dad’s birthday! And hopefully, have dreamless sleep tonight.

3 weeks

It’s been 3 weeks since that fateful Friday.  3 weeks since he took his baby girl to school for the last time.  3 weeks since he sent his last email.  3 weeks since the last phone call he made was to my mother to tell her he wasn’t feeling well and was going to a walk-in clinic later.  3 weeks since it was too little, too late. 3 weeks since he took his last breath. 3 weeks. A mere 21 days.  A period of time that seems like both years and only a few moments at the same time.  Time stands still, then runs through my fingers like sand. 

Even though we didn’t know for 2 more days, we are fairly certain he died on Friday, sometime late afternoon or early evening.  As a family, we were reflecting about what we were doing on Saturday 3 weeks ago.  My mom was decorating her home for Easter, in anticipation of Brian and Kayleigh coming to town sometime soon, since they weren’t able to come for her birthday earlier that week.  My dad was at the warehouse shuffling cars and equipment around, thinking about the race that they were going to do later in the year.  Britt and I were doing the usual Weaver running – we have 3 kids and it seems to always have something to do.  But we were all thinking about him, in our own way.  Hoping he actually went to the doctor, thinking it odd he hadn’t called mom back and wondering why his phone was going straight to voice mail.  My mom said her “Mother’s Intuition” kicked in my mid-afternoon on Saturday, but there was no way they could get there before Sunday morning.

So, now here we are 21 days later.  The family has come and gone.  The funeral is and over.  Food has been consumed, paper goods used and tossed, flowers died and thrown out.  The list of thank you notes is overwhelming, but the list of tasks regarding the Estate is downright daunting!  That’s where our reality is now.  We have a house and a car to repair and sell.  A house full of furniture, housewares, paper and STUFF to sort through and dispose of, sell, keep, or otherwise take care of.  He was a 40 year old man with a genius IQ, and his ways were not like our ways, and he was a bit of a slob.  The mere THOUGHT of going through that house sets my nerves on edge.  But, it must be done.  So, we pull up our boot straps, put on our happy pants, and get to it.  Tomorrow, that is…

I guess I had been a little anxious the last few days.  I had a massage on Wednesday, and I am still sore from that, but I feel my shoulders inching right back up towards my ears like they were when I went in.  I also had some crazy dreams/nightmares last night.  I very rarely remember my dreams, but last night I dreamed about gruesome car wrecks and woke up with a start more than once.  You know, we treated my daughter for PTSD after she got hit by a car last year.  I feel like I got hit by a car, and I’m having nightmares just like she was…  We’ll see what the next 3 weeks bring.  Time has to start healing wounds, right?

Momma said there’d be days like this…

Remember those tests I mentioned in the last post? Well, God threw a good one my way the last 24 hours. Luckily, nervous energy and excitement kept hunger at bay – I didn’t really eat much of anything the last 24 hours so the fasting was easy. But I prayed! BOY! Did I pray! And late last night, I listened. And early this morning, I listened harder and longer than I have in a long time. God showed me his answer a couple of hours ago.

Dreams are a funny thing. I used to tell my husband that I didn’t really dream about bigger and better and more because I would never have it anyway, so why bother. My husband is a dreamer. In the best way! He always has plans and dream and schemes to share with me! I love his outlook and his energy. Me? I’m more “practical.” But, over the past 5 years of our relationship, I have learned the value, and the FUN in dreaming – big bold dreams. I read Steven Furtick’s book “Sun Stand Still” and he calls it audacious faith. Finding that thing God leads you to that gives you a spark, then going for it! Craig Groeschel said in his message last week “You do what you can do. And trust God w/ the rest.” I did what I could do. Now it’s up to God.

And my dreams…