“I know you!” my two year old granddaughter cried out as she blazed her way into my Dad’s living room and pulled a fabric doll, nearly as big as her, out of a basket and held it tight.
It was her first time in that living room, and out of everything that was in there she saw that?
I mean, my Dad’s living room was crammed full of furniture and hundreds of pieces of art that my mother had made. In fact, my Mom had made that doll too, and it was dressed up to look just like her. Remnants of clothing my Mom used to wear were turned into miniature replicas of themselves, and brown yarn was braided into two long braids (my Mom’s favorite hairstyle) and used as hair. No outfit that my Mom wore was ever complete without some kind of headdress, so a simple fabric scarf lay atop the doll’s head. Its feet were, of course, bare, as my Mom’s feet were whenever shoes were unnecessary.
Peanut Butter, as I affectionately call my granddaughter, squeezed the doll tightly and closed her eyes in deep thought. She definitely knew her…because, before she came to earth, she had known my Mom. She recognized her image that was preserved in that doll. Peanut Butter was born in April of 2015, three years after Mom passed away. The day she was born, I woke up early that morning with a vision of my Mom and my granddaughter clearly in my head. Peanut Butter looked about nine years old, and was wearing a beautiful dress. My Mom adorned her head with a wreath of flowers that cascaded down her back. She gently held my granddaughter’s shoulders and gave her final instructions about her life on earth (though I did not hear the words). Peanut Butter nodded in understanding, and they hugged goodbye.
Unbeknownst to me, my daughter had gone into labor that night, and as I lay in bed for half an hour savoring the beautiful vision of my Mom and granddaughter, my phone rang.
“Mommy?” my exhausted but excited daughter said on the other end of the line, “You’re a Grammy!”
I was overjoyed and simultaneously amazed by the fact that I was privy to the moments before Peanut Butter had embarked upon her journey to earth. Many years later I was even more surprised when I saw my nine year old granddaughter dressed as flower girl for my youngest daughter’s wedding, wearing a beautiful dress, and a wreath of flowers on her head that cascaded down her back. She looked exactly as she did in that vision with my mother nine years before.
Within hours after hanging up the phone, I embarked on a journey to Utah to meet my granddaughter for the first time. As I nestled into my seat on the airplane, I felt so blessed to know so tangibly that life doesn’t stop with death; that we are simply eternal beings who have come to this school called planet Earth to learn certain lessons, each of us growing and learning at different rates and in different ways. I wondered what Peanut Butter came here to learn. No doubt, I was sure going to learn much from her.
I smiled as I remembered my Mom who, when asked “what are you doing today, Lisa?’ would answer, “Oh, I’m just busy being.” Clearly, she was still busy being on the other side with such things as dressing and prepping my granddaughter for life on earth. Life goes on.
I sighed a deep melancholy sigh as I pondered what life would be like if we all truly understood that there is no death, there is only growth. Would we be kinder? More understanding? Better listeners? Less afraid? More compassionate? My answer was yes, since that’s what the knowledge of eternity did for me.
I soon entered the warm and inviting home of my daughter and son-in-law. It was filled with handmade furniture and dozens of art pieces made by my daughter. Everywhere I looked was a feast for my eyes. But one thing stood out more than anything in the middle of it all. I spied a tiny little girl across the room who looked just like a doll, and I ran to her and brought her into a gentle embrace in my lap.
Our eyes and our hearts met in that moment, and out of my mouth came three soft words:
“I know you!”
