Dreams Beyond the Grave: A Journey of Hope, Faith and the Courage to Dream Beyond the Tragedies of Life

By C. Marie Smith

It would be a mistake if i didn’t thank time and space for allowing me to grow through this life experience. The death of the ones we love is hard to handle and accept only God’s love, grace and mercy along with the love of family and friends helps us through the process. Healing is a process, there are no short cuts, some heal faster than others and some never heal. I was one of the fortunate ones.

This work is dedicated to those who dare to dream and to those who refuse to let their dreams end up in the grave.

Don’t let the twists and turns of life derail you, stay the course and with time it all works out.

Remember God does all things well and for our good.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664143456

C. Marie Smith

Carolinda Marie Fleming is the author of, Dreams Beyond the Grave. Carolinda was also the vision behind creating the first TV production and student driven training after-school program for the Compton Unified School District. After retiring in 2006 from a back injury, she focused on her love of writing. She took a painful life situation and the journal which recorded her journey into this work. Through these pages she transformed pain into triumph, loss of love into finding love and the wisdom of God’s grace into hope and courage. She enjoys community outreach work and volunteers her time and talent to the youth in her current city, California City, California. This widow, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother is still a force to be considered. She dreams of how to create opportunities for visual expression and is currently involved in creating a dinner theater concept, marrying her two great loves, visual performance and culinary arts, for more information visit her websites: http://www.dreamsbeyondthegrave.org http://www.kerncountyplayes.org Follow her on twitter, @iammsladycee and on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/CMarieSmith75, her blog is located on her website listed above, follow for the latest news and information about future projects.

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Copyright © 2020 by C. Marie Smith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Front and Back Cover Design/Graphics/Photo: C. Marie Smith

Rev. date: 11/20/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Chapter 1 The Funeral

Chapter 2 Life After Michael

Chapter 3 Hope Springs Eternal - Life Resurrected

Chapter 4 New Beginnings

Chapter 5 Dreams Not Deferred

Chapter 6 Destiny

Chapter 7 From My Eyes

Chapter 8 Live Life to the Fullest

Chapter 9 Only the Strong Survive

Chapter 10 The Circle of Life

Chapter 1

The Funeral

I WATCHED IN BEWILDERMENT, like an out-of-body experience, I felt as if I were flying, hovering over the casket of my beloved Michael. The minister’s words echoed through the air like the faint ramblings of a bad dream.

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, from the dust of the earth we were created and to the dust of the earth we shall all return.

I sat still, motionless, as still as the stone statues adorning the well-manicured graveyard. Staring straight ahead my eyes fixed only on the bronze box, now my beloveds’ final resting place, all the while wondering.

How could this have happened to Michael? He was young, strong and viral. We just celebrated his 39th birthday two weeks ago. How could his heart just give out like that?

Tears steadily streamed aimlessly down her wet stained face. Dominque blinked in total disbelief. Her mind unable to accept what was happening and only speculations of what will become of her, her son and their future remain. She heard the cries from family and friends who gathered to say good-bye, but she could not understand how they really felt, not really. All she could comprehend was that their loved ones, their husbands, wives and children were still able to inhale the breath of God’s air. Sure they will miss Michael and yes they will remember him during holidays, for a while. But it is her bed that will be empty, her arms that will never hold him again; her son who lost his father, his hero, his role model and best friend. She felt angry, sad, confused, and helpless all at the same time. She began to mumble thoughts in her mind.

He promised me he would always be there, promised we would be in love forever. He promised, now I’m alone. I want so badly to turn back the hands of time. I need to rewind my life; I need a remix, a second chance, a do-over. Why is he dead? Why couldn’t this tragedy happen to someone else? Oh God, why him? Why my man? Why?

The minister touched her shoulder as he finished the eulogy, returning her mind and thoughts to the present.

May the Lord watch and keep you, may His sweet communion gently rest upon you and your son and may the strength of our Lord guide and protect you until you are reunited with Michael in the eternal rest of the Lord, Amen.

The minister lifted his hand from her shoulder and motioned in the air the sign of the trinity, signifying total assurance of the resurrection, a promise to all those who believe.

The crowd gently echoed in agreement.

Amen.

Slowly, one by one, family and friends approached to say good-bye or to give words of encouragement. As each one spoke, my eyes just gazed at Michael’s casket, my body unresponsive to their words. All I thought of was the mound of dirt that waits to cover the shining brass box which holds the man I love. I kept thinking this feels like a dream. I know it’s happening and my mind understands the reality of it all, but I just want the past couple weeks to all be a bad dream, but it is not, this is as real as life gets.

The entire service took less than forty-five minutes. It was a small graveside gathering, mostly consisting of the friends we met as a couple. Michael did not have any family left. Kyle and I had been his family. The usher from the mortuary helped me up as I cradled Kyle in my arms. He walked me toward the line of cars, holding me around the shoulders as I carried my sleeping son. He motioned for assistance and another usher came over to help removed the boy from my arms long enough for the attendant to help me in the first of five white limousines as they lined the curbside of the cemetery. The driver waited patiently to transport Kyle, myself and the close friends of my beloved back to his house for the repast, leaving him behind. He will never again enter the house he helped make a home. He will never sit at the head of his table and bless the food with the grace of God. He will never help me wrap another gift, write another thank you card, or ever spend another vacation or holiday. Life with Michael had eased and life without him has begun.

The cemetery was just about an hour’s drive from our home. The driver forgot to turn off his cell phone and it rang while we drove from the grave site to the repast. I jumped slightly hearing the sound only to remember the phone call that changed my life.

Hello…Yes this is Mrs. Dominque Dupree.

The news quickly changed the smile on my face to fear.

Who is this again? What? Slow down. What are you saying? What? Dear God! No! Oh no! No! No!

The phone call produced a wave of panic, shear pain, a pain of which I had not known. I was frighten and unsure of what to do, but I knew I had no choice but to obey the callers voice.

I’ll be right there.

This sudden and urgent summons delivered by this nameless voice echoed from the other end of the receiver commanded that I come to the hospital. Panic intensified, penetrating my very being. I dropped the phone and was out of the door before it hit the floor. I had the keys in the ignition before the operators annoying message echoed, ‘If you like to make a call, please hang up and dial again.’

The receiver lay dormant on the kitchen floor, still and motionless was a direct contrast to the recklessness abandonment I exercised backing out of the driveway. Once on the road, I lost total regard for the safety of others, never mind the risks to my own life, I just knew I had to get to the hospital. The call was a true indicator it signified I had reached a pivotal life changing moment. I tore down the highway heading west, driving as if my very life depended on it.

I drove toward downtown; out of nowhere I remembered why we purchased our home in the first place.

Honey.

I whispered in Michael’s ear as the Realtor pulled into the driveway.

This house is perfect. It’s close to great schools, the hospital, and the business district, and still has that small town neighborhood feel.

Funny how your mind wonders and how unrelated thoughts run through your brain at the oddest times. Why were these thoughts of how and under what circumstances we bought our home now so important? I think my brain was attempting to prepare my body based on what my heart was telling my brain. I tried to concentrate on driving, but kept hearing the Realtor’s voice.

"Living here gives you the best of both worlds. The business district for Lavern County is less than 10 miles from where we are located so is the best shopping mall, several grocery stores, Magnet schools and one of the most renowned trauma hospitals in the country. Smart move Mr. Dupree, the extra of $50,000.00 ensured this sale.

Ring, ring, ring.

Interrupting the realtor.

Excuses me it’s the owner calling.

She walked in the kitchen away from our view then shortly returned.

Congratulations you just bought a home. That was the owners and your offer locked out the other three bides they are ready to proceed with closing.

I could hear Michael’s reply to her now, just as clear as I did that day five years ago.

"I can’t begin to tell you the importance of being close to the hospital, it was really the final selling point, my primary