Infinity

I arrive in a dream, but it’s not mine. It’s someone else’s, someone still among the living. My life – death, actually – feels dreamlike and time is slippery. Since my death, I’ve been awarded endless time to learn anything and observe anyone, to quench every curiosity I have. Is this Heaven? I don’t know. But it’s not like any Hell I learned about so I am pleased.

Still within my children’s and grandchildren’s lifetimes, I sometimes “awaken” like this. It’s abrupt but not unwelcome, and I know it belongs to someone else because I’m not in control. I’m drawn without transition from an exploration (a journey through the evolution of bees, say) or an observation (my youngest tricking her siblings out of my eldest’s hidden stash of valuable antiques for example... a shame, but on brand for that one), and land in a foreign place.

Here I’m handed a baby. A beautiful girl with E.T. vibes – crinkly and cute in that newborn way. The mother is before me – this must be her dream, or the baby’s? – but I don’t look up. I take the baby into my arms and feel a new sensation. The blue eyes with a slight downturn draw me in, her head full of hair going every which way.

Am I reincarnating? I never believed when I was alive, but what is this? I look at her and she at me. I feel separate but joined.

As abruptly as I’d arrived, she is gone and I’m back in eternity. Someone must have woken up.

I’m not taking a bottle nor having a diaper changed (phew!), so I dismiss the reincarnation idea. However, I see things through her eyes sometimes, hear things through her ears, and glimpse her senses. Over time I learn:

-she has a twin sister

-her grandmother has come to live with her family, but the little one is shy around her

-the nanny swaddles too tight and doesn’t last long

-her mother dotes and worries a lot

-bananas are gross.

I wonder if this is an aspect of Heaven, in which we get to experience a human life again but in a manner that we can remember and appreciate.

When I’m not a baby, I continue to explore; there really are an infinite number of things to learn! I watch my family grow, checking on them one by one. The Universe only shows me the person and their mood; I hear their voice. But their surroundings are gauzy so the full context is hidden. They make mistakes and sometimes make amends and sometimes don’t. If I were alive, this might sadden me, but from this side I can see it’s simply the course of a life and I’m thankful to witness. More grandchildren and great grandchildren are born, and another of my own passes on. I wonder where they go. Is it similar to what I experience?

The little one I’ve bonded with starts talking. She is observant and cautious; she wants to get things right. She carefully utters her first syllables at the sliding glass door, her brown dog bouncing outside. She whispers, “pup-pup.” Her mother is delighted and her confidence increases as her sister squeals at her side and they’re all saying “pup-pup!” and laughing. What a blessing to witness.

I indulge my curiosities while life on Earth continues. I only notice time passing via my family. I sometimes feel a particular pang to share news, but no one is with me in this eternity. I witness the joys of my family as an invisible participant. Some of them speak to me and I hope their smiles or a hand placed over their heart are for me when I hug with ethereal arms.

Now I’m in a highchair, enjoying the little one smashing raspberries while her mother and sister laugh. I whisper something to her, to the little one. I have to share the happy news and she is my only companion. As I speak the words to her, though, I’m shocked to hear her voice mimic mine:

“My gramdotter had a baby.”

She smooshes another berry in and around her mouth. Her mother asks, “Your what?” through a laugh and wipes at her face.

I take a shot and whisper again. Again, the tiny voice says:

“My gramdotter had a baby!”

She claps and her mother laughs. “Your granddaughter, huh? What a funny thing to say!” She scoops the child up and the connection is lost.

What magic is this? I, of course, begin a new line of research within the infinite knowledge of the Universe. I wonder if it will last. I can’t control the connection and feel like a teenager waiting for the house phone to ring!

When the little one connects (intentional or not, I never know) I whisper sentences about my granddaughter and her baby, and delight in hearing some of my words from her mouth. Her family decides she has an imaginary friend called “my gramdotter” and her mother jokes, but with curiosity, that her child is reincarnated.

I marvel at this experience of having a voice again, and of seeing the world through a toddler’s eyes. She loves her toy kitchen, her pup-pups, picture books, playing with her twin, snuggling her mother, “helping” daddy around the house with her toy tools, and exploring their yard outside.

When we’re not channeling, I learn that these connections are:

-very common

-almost always dismissed by the child’s adults

-usually lost within a few years.

Worried that I’ll run out of time as she develops more of her own thoughts, thus less space for mine, I talk about my granddaughter more. This brings me joy and delights the little one’s family and somehow feels important.

Her voice takes my southern accent, despite her western U.S. home (her mountainous and snowy neighborhood are the Rockies for sure). Her family giggles at the lilt of her words. Her mother was from the south but lost her lilt after years away. She asks the child about her “gramdotter.” I think she – the mother – believes in me. Do I exist again? Did I not for a time? She asks so I keep talking with the tiny voice, and one day we say something that gives the mother pause. The little voice says:

“My gramdotter moved to New York.”

She (my granddaughter) was in New York when I passed, and I’m thankful she was able to visit shortly before my final day on Earth. I’d given her my wedding band.

“What? What was that?” the mother asks.

The little one giggles and stacks her blocks very carefully – she is hoping to get to ten today! – and the mother is quiet for a beat.

Then I hear something magical, a word I’d not expected to hear again...

“Mamaw?”

My invisible heart races and the little one squeals for me and the mother looks into her eyes, my eyes! And for the first time the little one focuses on her mother’s face directly with me. My ethereal breath is taken away.

I see blue eyes and long, blonde hair, her father’s nose and my daughter’s mouth. She brushes a wisp of hair from my eyes and I see my wedding band on her index finger. It’s her, my granddaughter. We stare in awe, though I don’t know how that translates onto a toddler’s face.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers and kisses the little one’s head.

The grandmother enters the room and my little channeler looks at her more pointedly than ever. She is gaining confidence and losing shyness and – be still my heart – I see my daughter’s face.

I am my granddaughter’s baby! How about that!

***

Dedicated to my Mamaw and my little one who channeled her for a few precious years. <3