Dragonflies, Butterflies & Lady Bugs

Jasmine Dreaming

Today is one week from the anniversary of Jasmine's death. We have spent a lot of time lately trying to decide how to handle the fact that she died on Valentine's Day. Do we not celebrate Valentine's Day? Do we move it to a different date? And whatever the outcome of that issue, what do we want to do on the year anniversary? Have a somber day or something else?

I was sitting in a fast food restaurant the other day and "The Lion King" was playing on a TV in the play area. That was Jasmine's first favorite movie. She had a little Simba lion that she carried around everywhere, and in the beginning of the movie, when Rafiki holds Simba up for all the animals to behold, she would stand in front of the TV and hold her own baby Simba up for all to behold. I can't tell you how many times we watched that movie -- I know all the songs and every line by heart. So I was sitting there, thinking about how that movie deals with death and wondering if it affected Jasmine's philosophy when it occurred to me that a great way to acknowledge the anniversary of Jasmine's passing would be to celebrate her life. To do as many of her favorite things as possible and tell stories about her. To remember her and help our girls remember her.

I waited a few days and called Gab and Jeff into the bedroom night before last. I asked them what they wanted to do on the anniversary and neither really had any strong ideas. I shared my idea and asked what they thought -- they liked it. We even started sharing stories at that time, thinking of all the things we could do. If this becomes a tradition, it will be one of the only ways Nina will ever know her sister. We haven't discussed inviting other people to participate, but I think it might happen naturally.

Last night, perhaps because of all this planning, I had a dream about Jasmine. In my dream, she had been in a coma for the past year. She woke up and was able to breathe well unassisted. We were overjoyed and tearful and I held her for a long time, telling her how it had been while she wasn't part of our life. She smiled her Jasmine smile and was ready, as usual, to pick up her life after a hospital visit. We went to a camp, where she spent a lot of time doing activities with a peer group. I remember sitting next to her and telling her she had slept right through her 11th birthday, that her 12th was more than halfway here. She was flirting with a boy somewhat, so I had a little jolt of baby-growing-up-angst about that. For whatever reason, her doctors didn't know she had woken up. We were excited because, we told her, she was obviously doing well enough to wait for another transplant if that's what she needed. Then I started making vows of what I would do to prevent her from getting sick -- keep her out of school, be more vigilant about hand washing, keeping her away from germs, make sure she was never late with a single med... and realized that I was putting her in a bubble. And I knew I couldn't do that, even scared as I was of losing her.

I woke up feeling grateful for the chance to hold her again, even if only in my dreams. My first realization was that it was so completely impossible -- her body is in ashes on my dresser. And I felt disappointed. As if it would be possible anyway. Miss you, dragonfly.

Previous | Next