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  • Writer's pictureDawn

Can I Go Home Now?

Crossing Over

[Written in October 2020]

This past week as my schedule has shifted into something more of my own, of my newer norm, I find that I am sleeping just a little bit longer at night and having many more dreams. Sometimes I can remember bits and pieces when I wake up, but usually by the time I start about with my day the memory of the dream fades or goes away completely. They say dreaming is that part of you which is working through the things that are going on in your life. You’ve heard many a person say, “I solved a problem while sleeping last night”. They aren’t altogether crazy!

George used to have dreams that he could describe with such detail it was amazing. When I try to put into words what I dreamed about I am lucky to have even a slight memory – and even that is so vague I can barely describe it. I might remember little tidbits – but never whole dreams – at least not usually.

Last night I again had many dreams. When you dream the story seems so real, so vivid. They are logical yet illogical at the same time. You are immersed in the story yet separated from it as if you are an onlooker to what is going on.

One of the dreams I had last night felt so real to me. Again, I do not remember all the details. I sort of remember that I was at an event that was outdoors. I recall, vaguely, that my parents may have been there. I was by myself, keeping busy at the event. My thought went to George and my dreaming self knew he was away and wouldn’t be home for a few days.

All of a sudden I looked up – and there was George coming towards me, earlier than I’d expected. I was so excited to see him. His face was pale and he looked like he wasn’t feeling well. By his side was a valet with a cart holding his many suitcases of belongings.

I ran up to him as fast as my legs would carry me, thrilled to have him back. I flung myself at him and gave him the biggest hug and he hugged me back. I felt warm, comforted … loved… having him home again, secure in his arms. And then…. I remembered nothing else of my dream.

When I awoke, I remember feeling grateful that George had come to me in a dream. Although there may have been a time or two that he has appeared, this one was by far the longest time he spent with me and one that I remembered. I took my Angel George teddy bear that is nearly always in my bedroom with me these days – and hugged him and said “thank you for visiting me last night”.

I got up and dressed and headed out for my morning walk. My typical routine is to shuffle a playlist from my phone so I have no idea what song will play next.

Some days, I think - no, I know – God puts songs into our heart that we need to hear. This morning, true enough, He did just that.

The following song I heard after George passed. It reminded me of lying next to George in his final days, encouraging him to “go home”. It was the same home I remember my dad asking about in his final days when he lay in his bed and asked if he could go home. I remember thinking, “you are home”, but realized the home my dad spoke of was his heavenly home, not the one here on earth. And so, I was taken back to my thoughts of my encouragement to my father – and telling George it was okay, to not be afraid. He could be made whole again with His Lord and Saviour and his God.

I couldn’t find the lyrics online to the song so I don’t have all the words correct. It is sung beautifully by Christian artist Craig Aven if you choose to look it up.

Can I Go Home Now

It might sound crazy but I’m homesick For a place I’ve never been A place where sin can’t sensor in A place I know that grace is taking me

Lately I feel like I don’t fit in This worlds’ been looking strangely dim But I should know that’s how it goes I guess my heart’s just where my treasure is

Can I go home now? Can I go home now? I’m clearly aching to be made whole now I’m not complaining, I know I’ll make it But I can’t help asking, Can I go home now?

You say these trials our faith (sic) cannot compare To the good times up ahead And as I wait I’ll only taste But my hope grows deep to finally have the rest

Can I go home now? Can I go home now? I’m clearly aching to be made whole now I’m not complaining, I know I’ll make it But I can’t help asking, Can I go home now?

There are days I don’t know how to pray or what to say Where would I be without your spirit there to pray for me Shaping me to make me strong to help me look like God’s own son

So that I can hear the words “Well done”

And child come home now. Child come home now. You’re clearly ready to be made whole now I knew you’d make it. It all was worth it There’ll be no more asking ‘cuz child you’re home now.

No more asking cuz child you’re home now.

Well done my good and faithful servant.

This morning as I walked and listened to this song, I was taken back to the dream I’d had last night. Remembering this cart that had a whole bunch of luggage on it, more than George had ever taken on any trip before. What was the reason for this – and for his appearance as he came towards me. He was obviously frail and didn’t feel well. That signified, to me, the fact that the cancer had taken it’s toll on his physical being. The luggage – was he packed to go somewhere for a long trip – or was he bringing it on a cart and leaving it behind in the physical world. Was luggage really his baggage – all the things he collected over his lifetime? His memories of his children, his wives, his parents and siblings – all the things that he had accumulated, good and bad.

I’d like to think that he had packed the bags and had come back to see me to one more time, to let me hold him in my arms just one last time. To feel, really feel, his arms around me giving me comfort and mine doing the same for him. I truly did feel safe, loved, warm during that embrace as we experienced a moment of honest togetherness. The elation I felt upon seeing him. That was so real to me.

If you’ve never experienced this pure, raw yet beautiful gift from a loved one who has passed, you cannot imagine what it was like.

And, as I continued to listen to the song, I found myself looking up towards the heaven and wondering if somehow George had not truly crossed over until just now. He had always told me he did not want to leave me. He would miss me so much. He couldn’t imagine being without me. Is it possible that he was still hanging on, not ready to let me go?

But – as I listened again to the lyrics, I could still hear the echo of George’s voice asking “can I go home now”. On that walking path this morning, I spoke out loud to him and told him, “Yes, you can go Home now.” Be free my darling, be free. Do not let the burdens of this world, the baggage you collected over the years, to hold you here any longer. And then he crossed the bridge to eternity.

I was at peace - - and I know he is truly at peace now. Truly whole again.

I continued on my way, listening to my songs. Thinking. Praying. Processing.

And, again, a song came on that I’ve listened to over and over in the past few years. When I first heard the song, it was after George’s second cancer surgery. The one where’d we been told “they couldn’t get it all”. The one that told us there are no further treatments or options. I remembered crying the first time I heard it as it speaks about change… and miracles. And at that time in our lives we needed a miracle.

The song is “Here As in Heaven” and is sung by Elevation Worship. It goes as follows:

Here As In Heaven

The atmosphere is changing now For the Spirit of the Lord is here The evidence is all around That the Spirit of the Lord is here Overflow in this place Fill our hearts with Your love Your love surrounds us You're the reason we came To encounter Your love Your love surrounds us Spirit of God fall fresh on us We need Your presence Your kingdom come Your will be done Here as in heaven A miracle can happen now For the Spirit of the Lord is here The evidence is all around That the Spirit of the Lord is here

As I listened today, however, it started to take a new shape. It spoke to me about my future. A miracle can happen as I move forward with my life. What that miracle is, or miracles are, is yet to be seen.

What I do know is that right now I am looking to close on a house that will be new to me. A house that I will be making my own by furnishing it with my vision, by adding touches that will not only allow me to be my new self but also will honor those whom I have loved who have passed. I am getting ready to cross over to the next phase of my life here on earth. I am ready, Lord.

Yes, God, I have always… always… known you to be with me even in my darkest hours You have been with me – guiding, directing, nudging, loving. The miracle today is that I was given the gift of holding George one more time even if only in my dreams. A touch that felt so very real at the moment my dream was playing out. And then the gift of music and lyrics – showing me again that George is now moving more towards You than he already was, letting go of this physical realm for real and making the journey of his lifetime, again reminding me that miracles can happen, are always happening. They may not be what we ever expected – but they could very be more than we expected, more than we could ever imagined. For when our hearts are on You, dear God, the world is full of possibilities, of goodness, of healing; of love and laughter and dreams coming true; of knowing that when life hits us hard we can change our direction and explore things from a different angle. Who knows where the road may take us. Only God knows… only God.

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1 Comment

Stephanie Hensley
Stephanie Hensley
Apr 05, 2021

I almost cried this morning reading this. I know exactly how you feel as far as getting that one last contact. I always felt safe with Dad and when he passed, even to this day, there's a sense of security missing. When he does show up in my dreams, all of that sense of safety returns. My heart fills up again. The grief is cured. I have my Daddums back.

It's a struggle every day to keep going on knowing that he is not in this world anymore, but the dreams always bring a release from that.

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