Breathless, I climbed the last ladder stretching to the top story and pulled myself over to the wood floor. I scrambled about in the shadows and regained my footing to find yet another obstacle in my way. Stepping toward the closed door, I gripped the knob and abruptly pushed it opened. Horrified, I came face to face with the Blonde Woman from the cult. Locking her eyes with mine, she bore a hole through my soul with her cold stare. In disbelief, I stood frozen in the doorway, stunned that she had found the children and me.
Emerging from the dark her flaxen hair seemed to illuminate the space above her, revealing the wooden rafters in the attic. She stood erect in the shadows like a sentry on duty with her right forearm raised about waist high. In her hand she grasped a long silver blade that pointed upwards. Unyielding in her mission she summoned its power to intercept my path. Stunned, I sensed Kevin dangling from the rafters below her feet. Her relentless stare pierced through my heart, confirming her message. She had come for my son. In defense, I covered my eyes to break the spell while a desperate cry of denial came from deep within me. Peering through my trembling fingers, I exposed myself again. With one more look, she commanded the door shut, leaving me trapped on the other side. Screaming like a mad woman, I beat my fists upon the heavy attic door that separated my son from me.
I rolled my head from side to side trying to shake away the image of the Blonde Woman. My arms thrashed about, as the bed covers slid from around my neck exposing my drenched skin to the chilly morning air. I gasped; my heart was pounding so fast it felt as though I had been buried beneath a stack of blankets during the night. My eyes opened wide with fear and then squeezed shut from the glaring hallway light. Squinting this time, I detected a slight movement in the shadows before me. Startled, I rose up on my elbows and craned my neck forward to see the blurry outline of my husband's broad shoulders as he slid his arms into a button down shirt.
It was morning! I took a deep breath dropping my head back on the pillow, ever so thankful to be in my own bed again. Smoothing back the damp curls from my forehead, I rubbed my eyes to focus. "Stann," I mumbled, "I had this terrible nightmare about the kids; somebody was trying to take them away from me. I was running with them on the street, and..."
Everything seemed so clear just moments ago, and now as I tried to relay the dream it sounded crazy. Nothing I said seemed to convey where I had just been! I tried to say more, but all I could see were the Blonde Woman's eyes staring at me from the shadows.
Less than twelve hours later, my five-year-old son lay motionless on the snow-covered street. A truck had struck down Kevin as he rode his new bicycle on the sidewalk past our neighbor's driveway.
"Kevin!" I commanded, "Mommy's here, Mommy's here!" Then, a choking, gurgling, sound came from his throat expelling more blood. His mangled body shuddered for the last time as he gasped for another breath. "It's too late!" I heard myself wailing. Draping my body over him, I cradled my sweet son to my breast and whispered, "I love you Kevin, don't go, don't leave me, Mommy's here!" In that moment, Kevin died in my arms and with him went my life too.
Weeks later, after many numinous dreams and synchronistic events, I struggled to accept the validity of these messages urging me to travel a less traditional path. What I feared most about myself had come true. In one moment I had lost complete control of my life and I did not know how to get it back. In this frightened state, I did not recognize the buoy of hope that God had given me to survive.
In my dreams I reconnected with a part of myself that had been forgotten. The seeds of knowing had been planted and left to push their way through the black soil of my unconscious. When I trusted my intuition to guide me I could see beyond the physical and glimpse another reality that held guidance and wisdom for me. I had immediate access to that place every time I went to sleep. My dreamscape was planted with personal symbols and archetypes waiting to be harvested to feed my starving soul. This sacred garden had been with me all my life. Only now did I begin to appreciate its purpose in my life. To survive this tragedy I would have to carve a path through this alternate reality. God had been speaking to me in my dreams. Dreaming Kevin was the path to my healing.....
Copyright 2002 Dreaming Kevin: The Path to Healing
A NOTE FROM MARY...Carla's grief counselor: I was chosen from the Beginning...Life teaches you this as you look back at all of your experiences. I questioned myself the moment I was told of Kevin's death. "Was I the best trained and qualified therapist to help this family through this trauma of losing their precious family member?" I knew that this was a life-changing event for all who were chosen...this journey was going to take us down a path that none of us had ever experienced. I constantly prayed for strength, guidance and wisdom as we traveled through this journey toward understanding.
I knew that all I could do was to help the Blowey's find the answers that would heal their hearts, that was shattered into pieces. Being there in a supportive "on call" commitment was commanded of me from within and would require this. Listening with an open heart and knowing that I could not shield myself from the immense pain had to be accepted within myself from the beginning. So I allowed myself to walk deeply in the shadows of all of their pain and suffering. Daily, we grew with each wave of agony and we tried to put all of the pieces of their hearts back together again.
This journey of Heart and Soul Healing took many months for each of us. The drive to heal was never ending and the surplus of energy required was given to us daily. As we sought the answers, they were given to each one of us and we were able to see more clearly as time went on. Trust, Faith, Love and Forgiveness were the gifts that God gave to Stann Carla and Amber and helped them in putting their lives and family back together...their heart's filled with Love, Understanding and Joy once again. The blessings received by each of us were so personal. I learned how God gave us gifts and miracles daily.
As parents, one of our greatest fears is to experience what the Blowey's and many other families have been challenged with in losing a child. Dreaming Kevin: The Path To Healing is a miraculous gift that came from the Blowey's loss of one of their precious gifts from God...their son. This true story reveals the journey we experienced. This book will help heal many lives and assist others who's hearts have been shattered by the loss of their child.
Dreaming Kevin is a wonderful documentation of one of the most difficult yet fulfilling times in my career. I am grateful that God was there giving each one of us the strength to walk this journey.
A NOTE FROM AMBER...Kevin's sister: Carla Blowey is my mom...and as many of you know who have already ready the book, I was only 8 1/2 years old when Kevin died. As a third grader, I was very confused and didn't really understand what death meant. I had a really hard time grasping the idea that I would never see my brother again. I was so surprised when I had dreams about Kevin. In one dream I remember him coming to the side of my bed and touching my face, letting me know that everything would be okay. While this was very cool, it was also a little frightening even though Mom told me not to be afraid to dream him. I had no idea what my mom was going through, let alone the intensity of her dreams. All I knew was that she was not acting like the "mommy" I knew.
Reading Dreaming Kevin was very healing for me. The book answered many questions that I had been afraid to ask about or that I had not even come up with yet. Mom was very careful not to tell me too much to soon, waiting for me to be ready and receptive. So it wasn't until I was a teenager that she shared some of the dreams with me. But, Dreaming Kevin filled in many lost memories for me. I was amazed at how much I had forgotten about right before the accident and right after. As I was reading about some of the events, it was like I would flash back and recover the memory. While there were many events that I forgot about, I was also amazed at all the things that happened that I was not aware of.
When I read Dreaming Kevin, I had just finished my first semester of college. With my new college attitude I dove right into the book, not realizing the effect it would have on me and unprepared for the intense emotions it would bring up. Reading the book was not an easy task for me. I was in tears all the way through the book. My mom's writing was so descriptive that it took me right back to that time. At times, I felt as though I was 8 1/2 again, but at the same time I now had the perspective of an 18 1/2 year old. Reading Dreaming Kevin was truly a learning experience for me. I learned so much about my mom and what she went through. I hope that others can get as much out of this book as I did. I hope this book helps others in their journey to healing and lets them know they are not alone.
A NOTE FROM STANN...Kevin's father: It has taken me many years to overcome the loss of my son, Kevin, whom I love and miss very much today. Part of my healing process was being able to love and support my lovely wife, Carla, and beautiful daughter, Amber these past years. However, I admit there were many times when I neglected my own grief. Most men and women don't grieve in the same way. As a bereaved father I dealt with the loss of Kevin differently than my wife. I was overwhelmed by the pressures of having to return to work and support the family. I was not comfortable talking about my feelings with many people, except with Carla, and even then I was worried about how my pain would affect her. So, as many men, I did not recognize that my pain was just as important and valid. It was difficult watching her be in so much pain and not be able to relate to her dream world. I wanted so much to experience those kind of dreams and have the same relationship with Kevin that she had. Thankfully, Kevin was persistent and found a way to come to me too.
Carla's book has given me a better understanding of her inner world and the grieving process from a mother's perspective . It also helped me with my own grief issues and enabled me to heal some of my wounds. I encourage all bereaved fathers to take the risk to read our story and recognize that although as fathers our grief journeys may be different than our deceased child's mother...our feelings of loss are just as valid. What is most important is that we loved.