AndreaJB
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As you may have read last week
in a couple of the recaps of The Gathering, on Sunday, four of us went on a very, shall I say, "impromptu" Dawson's Gift Book Tour. Everyone
seemed to really enjoy seeing some of the places that they had read about in the book.
While driving through the streets of San Francisco, I mentioned that I was reminded of a book tour that I had heard about quite a while back - something to do
with "good and evil." I got to thinking about that and looked it up and there it was. And, yes, they do (just like we did) take visitors around to
see the real places mentioned in that book! Just like we had done for DG!
It was kind of funny how they mentioned "oooooooh visiting the cemetery." Yes, we did that, too. But ours was a really pretty, peacful place. I
don't have a picture of that up yet, but I did post a couple of the church, etc. Not much, but if you want to see them click on "View My Images"
on this page.
1. - 4. St. Dominic's, the beautiful church near the hospital
5. Where I entered on that first day
6. Stood in awe
7. And was welcomed home
8. - 9. St. Jude Shrine where we lit candles for Dawson
10. St. Jude prayer card that had such an impact
11. The pond
12. Dawson's Rock (and Harley and me)
13. Pyramid by day
14. From where we saw the first view of Dawson's Light
15. Dawson's Resting Place
On the day my mother found that first, special dime - I wrote the story, "How Much is a Dime Worth Today?" and shared it on
the CMOMC board.
Later that same day, I told my husband that I had to go to the feed store before they closed to get dog food, and he offered to go.
When he got home, he said, "I guess you should have gone," and he held up a dime! "I found it right there on the floor in the
store," he said, "it must have been there for you."
"No, I said, "I think it's yours. Daddy wanted to tell you he's still here for you, too."
We both were rather amazed and a bit awed that a dime would just happen to present itself on that very day.
****
The next day, I emailed my friend the "How Much is a Dime Worth" story and that night she showed it to her husband.
Her husband, Tim, is my husband's cousin. She and I had really gotten to know each other and become best friends after she had read, Dawson's
Gift.
She worked in an oncologist's office and she had been extremely helpful and supportive to my mother and father throughout my dad's illness. One day,
not too very long before my dad passed away, we had all gone out to lunch and back to their house for a visit. It had been a very enjoyable day for my dad and
he was so pleased to see that one of his old machines - a large drill press that he had given Tim years earlier - was being put to good use and was so
well-maintained in Tim's spotless workshop.
It was obvious the great joy it brought my dad to try his hand at working at his old machine that day and he seemed so glad to know that he still remembered
how to operate it. Tim was a bit in awe of this 88 year old man who he had always admired and had great respect for, and he was impressed by the knowledge he
could share from his long years of working as a tool and die maker.
After my father died, Tim had regrets that he had not stood up and spoken at my father's funeral reception, for he wished he had told the story of the
smile he had seen on my father's face and the twinkle in his eyes as he had worked on his old machine. The dime story touched Tim's heart as he
remembered the man who had impressed him so and he was aware how he still wished he had shared the story of that day.
The next morning, Tim called his wife from work. He said to her, "When I got here this morning ... there was dime on my keyboard!"
It was as if my father had told him to let go of the regrets. He understood. He knew. And that was all that really mattered.
****
My husband and I each have a desk. They are front to front. I call them the "dueling desks." Silly. Under them we have a shared waste basket and a
paper-recycling box.
That same evening, my husband got up from his desk, went and got a flashlight and came over to me at my desk and handed me the light. "What? I asked.
"Look," he said as he pointed. I shined the light under the desks and there shining back up at me ... yep, a dime! Truly stunned, I picked it up ...
paying no attention to whose desk it was actually under ... his or mine. But I figured he's the one who spotted it, so it must be his. But he believed it
was mine.
But either way it's okay - perfect even - because Daddy gave me this blessing of a special story - a story of enduring love that can be held in a tiny
dime! And of course, God knew I would share my wonder of it all with everyone I know.
****
When I told my same friend, Tim's wife, about our newfound dimes ... well, she admitted that she was now wanting a dime from
Daddy ... "really bad!"
A few days later ... the phone rang ... it was my friend and she sounded like she was ready to cry! "What's the matter?" I asked. In almost a
whisper, as if she couldn't believe the words she was saying, she said, "I found a dime."
She went on to tell me how she and her husband had gone to church and then to dinner. They were leaving the restaurant ... walking toward the door ... Tim went
one way around a table and she went around the other way. She said, "And there it was! Just laying there! I couldn't believe it!"
She said she practically screamed when she saw it and called her husband over. And they just stood there, staring at each other and down at the dime before she
picked it up. She said people would have thought they were crazy if they knew they were acting this way just because they found a dime!
****
For us, the finding of a dime continues to be quite special. And we've found many - 56 to be exact. No, no, don't worry
- I won't recount every finding. But I will tell you there were many at the most significant times ...
... like the Mother's Day that Bill and I were at the market after mass, and as we were unloading our groceries at the checkstand, he looked down, then
looked at me and motioned to me. There was a dime laying on the floor between us. He said, "Your Mother's Day Dime." As he picked it up and
handed it to me, my first thought was, "Oh, I can't wait to tell my mother!" But then I said, "Oh, no, Mommy might feel bad if I got a dime
and she might not have found one."
The checker loaded our cart with the bagged groceries and as Bill wheeled the cart toward the door, he suddenly stopped. I looked at him questioningly. He
said, "There. Your mother's dime." Sure enough, there it was! And now I surely couldn't wait to call my mother and tell her Daddy
had wished us both a Happy Mother's Day.
Yes, Bill does have a knack for spotting the dimes. He found one on our property that totally amazed him. He couldn't believe how he had spotted it. It
looked as if it had been buried on our property for about fifty years! It wasn't even silver. It was dark and dirty, blending in with the earth and rocks
around it, but it surfaced on one special day ... just for Bill to find. We realize that Daddy has decided to put Bill, with his eagle-eye, in charge of dime
duty.
Proof of his eagle-eye! Bill and I were in the drive-thru line at a fast food restaurant. One car was ahead of us getting their order. Bill said, "Look
over there."
"Where?"
"Right next to the car in front of us ... on the ground ... on the passenger side ... something shiny."
"I can't see it. Do you think it's a dime?"
"Might be."
Sure enough, it was. And of course I had to get out of the car after we had driven up to the window ... to pick up my dime.
****
But interestingly enough - it was Bill's birthday one year and we were again leaving the market. I silently said,
"Daddy, where's Bill's birthday dime?" I immediately looked to my right and there standing on its end in a crack in the cement ... yes!
Honestly!
And then there was the day I drove my mother to see her ailing sister in the hospital. Her sister wasn't doing well and my
mother was very nervous and concerned. The hospital parking lot was very full and it appeared I was going to have to park at the far end of the lot. I told my
mother that I could leave her off at the door and then go park, but just then I noticed there was one available parking space very near the entrance. I parked
and as my mom got out of the car, there laying at her feet on the pavement ... she couldn't believe it ... one calming and comforting dime.
****
I promised you I wouldn't tell all fifty+ dime stories, but I will tell you just one more.
My mom drove a little red sportscar and my dad drove a white van. It had been nearly two years after my dad had died that my mother decided to buy a new car.
She turned in her car, but could not bring herself to also turn in my dad's van, although she knew it made sense to do so, for she really didn't need
it. Bill suggested we buy it from her. He said, "For sentimental reasons and, too, it would be good to have."
But as we were about to take it and drive it away, I could see my mother was feeling a bit sad to see it go. And I assured her that Daddy was happy that we had
it and that, after all, it would not be sitting somewhere on a car lot. But I must admit that I was feeling rather sad myself when I saw it the next morning
parked outside my house ... as I remembered fondly ... the special dad I loved and missed so much.
Bill went outside and began to wash the van and vacuum the inside. I was on the phone to my mom when he came in and said, "I guess your dad is
happy that we have the van." I looked up at him. "Did you ... ?" I started to ask. He nodded yes as he handed me a dime. He said that he had
opened the little storage drawer under the passenger's seat and the dime dropped out and landed on the carpet right in front of him. I told my mom and she
said, "I guess he does understand. I guess he knows it was best for me to let it go ... and especially to let it go to you."
I knew this was true. So, just how much are these reassuring, comforting little dimes worth? A lot!
****
So many who have heard these stories become aware of the dimes they begin to find - and they do find dimes! What does it all
mean? Who can say. All I know is that these stories are true and I know for certain that when someone who knows these stories - then finds a dime,
they think of my dad and they send up a little prayer for him. So that in itself is something blessed. Just like when someone sees a dragonfly and says a
prayer for Dawson. And I've even been told of two incidences where dragonflies and dimes have come together!
Double prayers and double blessings and THANKS BE TO GOD.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Visit us @ www.dawsonsgift.com
What unexpected events could bring a mother, experiencing the worst of all tragedies,
to find not only acceptance, but comfort and a true sense of peace?
From where had these blessings - these gifts - come?
Ask me about this month's special price!
PART
ONE
It was about the time that I was putting the final touches on my manuscript for Dawson's Gift when a SF radio host called me for an interview. The book was
not in print yet, but she had heard the story of Dawson's light and wanted to share it with her listeners.
When I had taken on the task of writing Dawson's story, I was not a writer, and, honestly, after all these years I am still hesitant to say I am an author.
I see myself simply as a mother who was called to tell her son's story.
While writing, what kept me going was my desire to fulfill Dawson's wish - but it was not without the question in my heart - will anyone really care about
our little stories contained in the book? Naturally, thinking about my telling this story of ours on the radio, that is the question I was asking myself. Will
anyone care?
On the air, I recounted the story of the light on the top of San Francisco's landmark Transamerica Pyramid Building and how and why it meant so much to us
and why we called it Dawson's Light. I told how it is only lit at Christmas time and how each year when it is lit, my husband and I go to the city to see
it.
A man listening called in to the station to talk to me. He said that he and his pregnant wife had just been to see her doctor. I could hear the joy in his
voice when he said, "This morning, we heard our baby's heartbeat for the very first time ... and we also found out we are having a boy!" He said
that after their appointment, he had taken his wife home and then he drove on to work. That is when he turned on his radio and heard me.
He said he had called his wife to tell her the story and, with his voice shaking with emotion, he said to me, "I want you to know that we have a name for
our baby. We're going to name him Dawson." He told me that it meant so much to him to have found a name with such a special meaning and he said that
to have heard that story on the day he learned their baby was a boy ... was like a gift.
And his call was such a gift to me! I hope you can imagine what it meant to me to hear how happy this man sounded. And it was so clear that it was not just
because he had heard a name he liked - it was that Dawson's story had touched his heart. And he surely had given me the answer to my question - "Will
anyone care?"
Someone cared. Someone cared very much.
to be continued ...
Thank you so much for your touching and thoughtful note. I don't think I can adequately express to you just how much your beautiful words meant, and will always mean, to us. I've shared it with others who I knew would appreciate it, too - others who have also reached out to us who seem to know the sadness we are experiencing over losing Harley. I guess there was no hiding the love we felt for our little guy. But about your note, I wanted you to know that everyone expressed what a wonderful man and veterinarian you must be. Thank you, Jim, and your caring and considerate staff for the concern and understanding you have all shown us.
Everyone we know does seem to understand how Harley's link to Dawson made him so very special. But in addition, it was Harley - because of the unique dog
he was - who had totally captured our hearts. It was so nice to hear your kind words about him. He really was one tough, yet very sweet dog.
You knew he was nearing the end, but I still don't really know what happened. How he got worse after his numbers got better. I know the calcium levels were
alarming, and you say it must have been a tumor, but why didn't we see it? And would cancer have taken him so quickly? I knew his refusal to eat was a sign
that he knew … I guess the questions and the answers do not really matter. What matters more is that I prayed that Bill and I would not allow him to
suffer for days and days just because we could not bear to let him go. I suppose looking back we could say that his last days were not great, and his last
hours certainly were not, but all I have to do is look at this picture of him taken just eight hours before he died looking so peaceful to know that God had
been merciful and had answered my prayer. The sun had gone down, the concrete was still warm and I cherish seeing him looking so comfortable and as if without
a care in the world.
I had also prayed that we would not have to take him for that one last ride to see you, us knowing he would not be coming home. I asked God to please not make
us do that. I *reminded* God that I'd been the one to have to tell the doctors the moment it was time for Dawson and I begged Him to spare me having to do
that with Harley. I really did believe we were going to have to make that heartbreaking decision and I was dreading it so, but again God answered my
prayer.
So I have much to be thankful for. And I thank God and Dawson for the gift and blessing that was Harley. And I am thankful that Bill and I were always aware of
how precious he was. And we told him so every day. Just to look at his sweet face brought a smile to mine. Just to watch Bill lying next to him on the floor
and see the love he felt for this dear, funny little dog made my heart smile.
But Harley not only made us smile, he made us laugh. He truly brought out the best in us. Bill and I are a bit serious by nature and by circumstances, but
Harley allowed us to be lighthearted and silly and I will miss that. He was a gift, a blessing and our joy and we miss him terribly and will for a very, very
long time.
Fondly, Andrea