I reluctantly threw The Shack in my purse last night before heading out to Miss Bit's ball game. I've been slowly trying to make my way through Young's novel since February. I just finished The Help and haven't started a new book yet so it just made sense. Having a book to retreat into keeps me entertained during the uneventful game and it allows me to escape from the idle small talk and gossip when I want or need to. If anything, I know my limits.
Not more than a page in, Mack- the protagonist- witnesses his dead daughter playing with her living brothers and sisters. This glimpse fills him with immediate relief and immeasurable joy...she is okay. He wants to go to her, but cannot. And then he wonders if this vision is even real, and if his other children are really communing with their deceased sister. The answer brought tears to my eyes and warmed me right there in the cold bleachers.
They are, but they aren't. Only Missy is truly here. The others are dreaming, and each will have a vague memory of this - some in greater detail than others, but none fully or completely.
Reading these words, I felt such warm validation of some of the recent dreams I've had that seemed like much more than dreams. Dreams so real and clear. Dreams so matter of fact and poignant. Dreams so heart breaking and life changing. The smallest, simplest gift in any day can remind me that my Mom is with me every day, and that is the most meaningful and monumental gift that's ever been bestowed upon me.
(Today I'm taking part in Tuesdays Unwrapped.)
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