On August 19th, 1997 my first child, Madison Tate, was lost due to a miscarriage. I think about her from time to time and have even wondered what she is like.
I don't often recall the dreams I have when asleep once I am awake but I am sure that I dream. I don't know why that happens but it does. Last night was an exception to that rule and I had an amazing dream. I don't know where I was but I was standing in long sea grass and could smell the ocean and see the beach and water in the distance. There were no buildings, no cars, no boats, no planes, no clouds, no birds. Nothing but me, the ground, the blue sky, sea green ocean, sand, grass and a little girl with long hair wearing a white A-frame cotton dress.
In the dream I have no idea if I was alive on this earth or elsewhere but I have a theory. After standing alone for a few seconds the little girl looked at me and smiled. It was a pleasant, open, joyous smile stretching from ear to ear. As she approached me she took my hand and looking up at me with weepy eyes she said, "Daddy, I've been waiting so long for you". In the dream I was crying but was able to say, "Madison, I love you and I miss you so very much".
The dream was over or I can't recall anything more. I know that for a few seconds I felt as if I were holding my oldest daughters hand and looking into her eyes. I talked with Laura about the dream as I have been pretty emotional today thinking about it and told Laura that in those few moments it seemed so real.
This got me to thinking and honestly praying about Madison. I wonder if she knows that her Daddy's heart has missed her so often since that day and that I think about her more than I would like to admit. I know that I am an emotional person and don't make excuses for that. Anyhow, I found something written by Shawn Collins (to be fair it is a modified version of Albert Brumley’s hymn If We Never Meet Again) that expressed what I feel better than my own words:
Now you’ve come to the end of life’s journey. It turns out we’ll never meet any more, ‘till we gather in heaven’s bright city, far away on that beautiful shore. … Since we’ll never get to meet this side of heaven, I will meet you on that beautiful shore. Farewell, Child, until we meet face-to-face for the first time. Go with my love. Dad
I believe with all my heart that she is safe and in heaven. I believe that someday I will meet Madison and finally get to embrace her. Until then, I believe that last night while I slept, God allowed me to hear her voice, hold her hand and see her smile and for that I am thankful. I miss her. I love her and I pray that she hears me when I say, "I Love You, Madison Tate". Oh, and my "theory" as to where I was. I believe I was in Gods grace for a moment and allowed to see my oldest daughter whom I know he is taking marvelous care of.
Reference: Letter to My Unborn Children: The silent grief of miscarriage by Shawn Collins: