Embracing Crazy

People say delusions are bad things.  Are they? This week my deceased son, Ben came to my rescue as surely as if he were with me in the flesh.

A newly downloaded and installed driver failed to work following reformatting months ago of my computer, and a now needed but seldom used piece of hardware wouldn't function.

Frustrated, I chastised my son out loud for dying and leaving me in the lurch. Ben was my computer guru and all things technical problem solver. Following my uttered chastisement, in a flash I began searching a catch-all bookcase in the corner. What led me to that bookcase? I felt my son urging me on, and I pulled a dust covered plastic box from the shelf.  Where had this box come from? I didn't remember it.  And as if I had no control over my actions, I began searching the contents of the box and found the needed original driver disc. But now finding it, what was I suppose to do with it? Again, with seemingly no control over my physical movements, I watched as if outside of my own body, seeing myself insert the disc in the computer bay and I gazed in amazement as the needed driver self installed and the useless piece of equipment now sprang to life.

It had to be Ben. But my son is dead, or is he? I heard Ben’s voice assure me he is not dead, his body is just ---gone.  He is always with me when I need him. Wiping tears from my face, I said “thank-you” out loud, and felt the embrace of his hug.

Surely I must be losing my mind. Then I heard Ben’s laugh and it became louder as I decided I was having some sort of delusion and therefore I was going crazy. I heard him snort and tell me if this experience is a delusion and that means I’m crazy, then crazy is the only way to truly be.

After several hours growing more concerned over my possible deteriorating sanity, I decided to distract myself by watching a dvd university course on writing.

I pondered the fact that my ancient dvd player did not have the capability of selecting each individual class. The remote was long lost. I either had to watch a series of six lectures at one sitting or let the dvd play while I did other things until the class I wanted to watch began.

While dwelling on those thoughts I heard,  “Ma-mom!” Again, it was Ben’s voice. I looked around and saw no one; but he had my attention.

And just as before, I began to move automatically, as if not in physical control of my body. I began digging through a wooden box. A box that still, after six long years, I did not touch because it contained many of my son’s belongings that I still could not bring myself to sort through. What was I doing? Near the bottom of the box, my fingers closed around and withdrew something--- a remote control of some sort. It was Ben's. I studied it, not understanding its function. I compared it to the dvd player. I spoke out loud, “It doesn't go to this dvd player. It’s a different brand.” 

To which I heard Ben with his familiar exasperated sigh answer, “Just find some fucking batteries for it.”

No question, Ben was indeed communicating with me. I installed the batteries. Not knowing which buttons to push, my finger somehow went to exactly the right one, and now I could watch each class course in whatever sequence I wanted. Again I said, “Thank you” out loud, and again--- I felt Ben’s hug. This time, I laughed.

I have since pondered if somewhere in my deep subconscious I knew where that disc and the remote were all along, and despite my total lack of abilities in all things technical, I have somehow tapped into a mechanical knowledge that until last Wednesday lay dormant. I have come to the conclusion that is not the case. But I did tap into something. Something wonderful. Because, I heard him, I felt him and if all truth be known, I smelled him. 

If what I experienced were delusions and I am crazy, I will agree with my son Ben, crazy is the only way to truly BE.