I dreamt about my beautiful Christian last night. He was so happy, bouncing around the room like a ping pong with his brothers. The specifics of the dream are blurry but I can recall the most important part, at the end. He came over to me, upon my request, and gave me a hug. His skinny arms reached up, wrapped around my neck and squeezed. It only lasted a second, but it was a second of pure bliss.
Dreaming of Christian is not new. It happens less frequently than I would like but at least it happens. My husband rarely dreams of him. Anthony dreams of him sometimes and Nicky said he never does.
There are so many unfair things about losing someone you love. Does it have to be permanent? Why can’t you get a certain number of dreams a week when you can interact with them? Going from daily interaction to nothing seems cruel. Of course we get signs, and they are beautiful, but I am left wanting more!
I like to think of my dream last night as an early Valentine’s Day gift for me. Hugs and kisses are the best gifts! Young children are so generous with hugs and kisses. They become stingier as they get older. Even with my living children I am always saying, “Come over here and give me a hug and kiss!” Sometimes they do it begrudgingly. Other times they just pretend it is begrudgingly.
My favorite hugs are the ones my boys give to each other spontaneously. If they were a little more savvy they would know that they could ask me for anything they wanted in that moment and get it!
In my last post I wrote about some people that I met at a LiveOnNY workshop over the weekend. As I watched three sisters who lost their only brother my heart truly ached for them. It evoked emotions in me that I knew were there but buried for survival purposes.
My familial dream of three boys growing up together began the day I found out Nicky was a boy. Brotherly bonds are not to be underrated. Immediately images of three boys laughing, loving, playing and fighting together emerged. Then my thoughts expanded to graduations and weddings. I lamented the fact that I would never be mother of the bride. At the same time I fell in love with the idea that I would be the most important female in their lives until marriage. So many hopes and dreams sketched out. My favorite ones were always based on their brotherly bond. Thank goodness Anthony and Nicky still have this but it pains me to know that the brother who was going to “guide” them – okay be their leader in mischief – is no longer here to do that.
Today, the snow is falling in New York again. We are a few days shy of Valentine’s Day – the holiday of love. I found this beautiful project on Pinterest that I am going to use as a way for my boys to record memories of Christian.
Using my emotional barometer I will judge whether we can make it all about Christian or if we should include all three boys. If they seem to feel any bit over shadowed by Christian’s memory then I will include memories for all three boys. Either way it is a beautiful dedication to brotherly love.
My life has not turned out the way I had hoped. There will forever be the question, “what would it be like if you were here?” We will never know. We must relish in the memory of the times with all three of our boys and continue to create new memories with our two living boys. Love to heaven…
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Published by christiansredballoon
My name is Cara Martinisi. I am mother to three boys and a wife to my high school sweetheart. Up until three and a half years ago, I lived a mainly charmed life. I married the first boy I fell in love with, had three easy pregnancies and three healthy boys. Family and friends were plentiful and amazing. There were bumps in the road, like with anyone else. For the most part, though, I had lived my life with everything falling neatly into place.
This all changed after living 35 years in this manner. On July 3rd 2014, our house got struck by lightening. It was a scary experience, which resulted in a fire. Our entire family escaped the fire safely. Our home needed to be gutted and rebuilt, but we realized just how blessed we were to all be safe and sound. Fast forward exactly eight weeks later, to the end of the summer, August 28th. Our entire world was changed in a matter of minutes. We were living in a rental home, where a freak accident occurred. The supporting pole in the garage was not secure. It fell on my six year old son, Christian. My then three year old son and I witnessed the entire scene.
This has irrevocably changed who I am as a person in every way. I am now a bereaved mother. It may be one of my titles, but not my identity. My family will never be the same. We are left to move on, while we are not whole. The trauma, shock and pain resonates daily, in one way or another. My mission, now, is to help others who have joined this undesirable club. My mission is to carry on my son’s message, which was kindness. My mission, now, is to make a new normal. I hope you get some inspiration from my posts, whether you are a bereaved parent or not. Grieving a child teaches you lessons that one can never learn in any other way. As always, love to heaven...
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Cara Martinisi 
I recently wrote about “what ifs.” Sometimes it is hard to let them go but we do need to. Christian is a beautiful love. That love will always be with you. It will never change. Fortunately we don’t know the future and we can’t know what might have been. That is actually a blessing. You will always have what was. Not enough I know. ( I hope that this was ok to say) Suzanne
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It is definitely okay!! Thank you for sharing.
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