Darcy and I went to the library yesterday. When I walked in, there were tons of toddlers in the kids area, running around, making noise, and I couldn’t help but smile. We didn’t go there often with Benny, but had been in the fall right before the accident. It’s hard for me to be there.
There was a little man there, maybe 16-18 months. I was looking at him and smiled, then went to search the computer for books that Darcy wanted. I wasn’t really paying attention to what the kids were doing until one of the mother’s called out the name Bennett. I couldn’t believe it. I had never met another Bennett when the dude was alive, I couldn’t believe that there was one in the library. His mom asked him to put the bus away because they were leaving. Our Benny had a yellow bus, it was his favorite. It was the only toy I ever let him bring to Sandy’s and he would vroom it all over her house.
I’ve been seeing his name everywhere since I’ve been home. Most recently in a book I read (couldn’t tell you what it was about because my focus is all screwed up again) the characters last name was Bennett and she had PTSD, how appropriate. Parker’s Aunt once told me she considers this ‘a kiss’ from our children. It’s a beautiful way to think about it.
While in Canada, I had a Benny dream, the first in a long time. He was older, maybe 4 or 5 and dressed in a tux or suit and I think he was going to be in someone’s wedding (bizarre). He looked at me, all handsome and grown up and told me that he loved me. It was a surreal experience, because even in my dream I realized just how significant this was. Some part of me knew that he was gone, this wasn’t one of those dreams where you wake up and think he’s still alive. I knew in my dream what a gift this was. Tara dreamed about him a few days later. Keep it coming bud. We’re used to being on our toes where you’re concerned.