The first couple of weeks, after Alex’s sudden promotion in 2008, God had us in some type of safety bubble. Perhaps formed out of the love and prayers that were being poured over us, for which we are eternally grateful. But it was evident there was a protective layer between us and the depths of our loss. God is good to do this for the brokenhearted. How else could we endure burying our son?
It was well into our 3rd week when the quiet fell on us. Our protective layer seemed to fall and reality hit like a 2x4 right between the eyes. Family and friends had returned to their lives and we were left to find our way through a deep-dark and despairing grief. The awfulness of it is too much to revisit but as you can imagine or perhaps relate, it’s faith shaking.
I want to emphasize that I can now appreciate the quiet season… it was during this season that God did His most powerful work. He had to remove us from the noise so that we could hear His heavenly whispers. Our spirit needs the quiet. It doesn’t feel good, but it is good for us and God knows what He is doing.
It was during the quiet season that I received a most sacred dream. My first dream of Alex. He was, I believe, in heaven. I saw him pass in front of me riding a beautiful black horse. He passed so quickly, so fiercely, that I only caught a glimpse of him The right side of him. His body leaning all the way forward on his horse. No saddle. His sweet face buried in the horse’s long mane. I notice trees in the distance. Everything is in black and white. No color.
I can hear the horse laboring as they pass by. I hear the clatter of his hoof’s pounding against cobblestone streets. There is an urgency in the air. I can feel it. And quickly, they are out of sight.
My shoulders fall forward, my head hung low, I didn’t get a chance to call out to him.
The next scene, I find myself before Alex. He is possibly sitting on a retaining wall or something similar. I actually can’t see a wall, I can only imagine that’s what he is sitting on. He is looking down at his lap. I notice a book laying there. He has a pen/pencil in his right hand. He appears completely content. In the distance I notice his horse tied loosely to a tree, behind Alex.
“What are you doing, baby?” I ask in a seemingly respectful manner.
“I’m learning Gaelic! See?” He quickly and enthusiastically replies. He sits straight up and flashes his million dollar smile. Dimples are heavily creased in those sweet cheeks. He quickly lifts his book and turns it around to where I can see the pages. There, in his own handwriting, are three words written in Gaelic. (Now, I had never seen the written Gaelic language, but I knew that’s what he was showing me.)
Within a matter of seconds Alex’s hands disappear. Then slowly the book disappears. But the three words start to float toward me. They lingered in the air as if allowing me time to study them. I must have known the dream was ending because I started to say the words out loud. Over and over. Coby could hear me talking in my sleep. He said I kept repeating three words. He couldn’t make out what I was saying.
He asked three times, “Tesi, what are you saying?” I just kept repeating myself.
He finally asked, “Do you want me to write this down?”
I woke myself up by sitting straight up in bed, and in a panic, I cried, “Yes!”
My heart was pounding so fast I could hardly catch my breath. I felt as if I had passed through water. I looked down around me, expecting to find a pool of water, but I was bone dry. The bed dry as well.
Coby came out of our bathroom and in a bit of a panic he asked, “What happened? What were you saying?”
I began to cry and explained my dream. He calmed me and mentioned he wrote down my words and left them for me on the bathroom cabinet. Exhausted, I laid down and fell back asleep.
The next morning, Coby left early and didn’t wake me. He knew I needed the rest. When I awoke, I called him at work and we went over the dream again. He had me laughing when he said, “I was concerned when you were speaking. I couldn’t figure out what you were saying. I thought you were speaking in tongues!” This still makes me giggle because we are Baptist. I bet he was a little freaked out.
He reminded me that he had written down, to the best of his knowledge, what I kept repeating. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed the paper. He did good, he just miss took a C for a K.
We did not have high speed internet at the time, only dial up, not to mention I knew very little about the internet. So I called my little sister and told her about my dream. I asked her if she could get online with an interpreter and find out what “i cour tien” means. ( I can’t emphasize the accents here but Alex had them written when I saw the words in my dream.) I wanted the words translated in Irish, Scottish and Welsh.
Missey jumped right on it. Within hours she called me and was currently online with a Welsh translator. He needed to know if I wanted him to insert a “F” a “P” or an “H.”I was extremely confused. Why would he want me to add letters to the words? Before Missey could respond, he chose to insert an “F”. Strange but I will explain in a second. So here is what she found out.
Irish meaning: “I, the eleven sons of the palace.” Scottish meaning: “I, General.” Welsh meaning: “I turned bonfire.” (without and additional letters) This one stole my breath and broke me wide open. Welsh meaning with the “F”: “I turned from bonfire!” *BIG SIGH* God had been impressing that He had Alex before the two trucks collided. The enemy, however, was relentless in my suffering. He had me doubting. He had gained a strong foothold. But God sent affirmation for me, here.
Here is a short lesson for the Welsh language. Some letters of the alphabet are not included in the Welsh language and have to be found in borrowed words.
Missey asked if I wanted the words translated in French or English. I told her we were good, she could get offline now. I was elated with what she had learned. Just having confirmation that there was meaning in Alex’s words was immeasurably comforting to me. I shared all the information with Coby and Hayden.
Hayden responded, “Mom, Alex was already learning Gaelic. He wanted to learn the language before his trip to Ireland, Scotland, and Wales!” I had no idea! This news gave me chills.
I mentioned to Coby that Missey had asked if I wanted a French and English translation, he was a little upset that I had told her no. So the next day, I called and asked if she would kindly get that for Coby. She didn’t mind at all.
As I am hanging up from speaking with Missey, I get a call on the other line. It was one of the ladies from our Church. She explained she had some pictures and a DVD for us, of Alex . They were from “The Reality Play” he had been in, that prior summer. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. She offered to come right over.
In a matter of 30 minutes or so, Missey calls. She has a translation for us. I am standing in our dining room, staring out the window as she begins translation. English meaning: “On bended knees before Him.” She elaborates that it is speaking of being in the presence of a King. She goes on.
French meaning: “Sword of Mercy.” My heart leapt. “Wow! Alex loved swords. We were just looking at the one Kody bought for him, for his birthday!” I explained. Right then! Right then! Two women walk past the window. One carrying a sword!
“I have to let you go, Missey! I have to call you back!” I abruptly hang up before she could even respond. I ran and opened the front door, before the ladies had a chance to ring the doorbell.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the sword.
“This belonged to Alex. It’s his sword!” The kind lady replied.
“No. I don’t think so.” I said with a sagging spirit.
“Oh, Yes! It’s his! He made us buy it for him. He said he would play an Angel in the play, but only if he had a sword. He wanted to be the Angel of Mercy!” She recalled with such fondness.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. Although we had attended the play and witnessed our son's angelic character, I had no recollection of the sword. I was speechless.
I had to share with her what had just transpired, before she walked up. I explained my dream and all that followed. We sat and wept. Happily we wept.
After the kind ladies left, I watched the DVD. I sat in awe. There Alex was, tall, handsome, beautiful white wings attached to his back, and holding a sword. He stole my breath. He had no speaking parts in the play, just stood there protecting a helpless teenager who had been under the influence of demons. He was meant for the part. His name, Alex, stands for "helper of mankind."
Coby and I had said, many times, in the days after Alex’s promotion, that we felt very strongly Alex had favor with God. We felt he held a high ranking. A military sort of status. Don’t ask how we know this, we just do. It has been strongly pressed into our spirit. We are more convinced with every dream.
It was in our quite season that God began to speak directly to me through a series of dreams, revealing His plan for Alex and His plans for our lives. This dream, being my first, was evidence of Gods indisputable and divine involvement in our lives.
Nine years ago today, in Paradise, divine music and jubilant shared joy echoed the arrival of a magnificent soul that now has unlimited eternal happiness. He experiences uninterrupted joy forever. There is a peace in that, for us. His presence on this earth is missed, immeasurable. We miss our sweet son. We love you Alexander John-Cade Pugh. We are better people for having loved and been loved by you. You have led us by example. Thank you for teaching us how to let our light Shine...