I dream

One night as I slept, I had a series of dreams.

   

The first one was with me and Emmett and our children. It was a sunny Saturday morning, and Emmett was cleaning his new truck. The kids were playing in the street while we were outside washing the vehicle. Rob pulled up in his truck and without saying a word, he pulled out his gun and shot two bullets at Emmett. The babies and I sat there watching the entire thing . . . with no way to get away from it. We ran towards Rob, but he jumped back into his truck and drove away. Emmett just lay on the ground and didn’t move. I fell down beside him. He had a bullet in his forehead and one in his chest. His lungs were not moving. He was covered from head to toe in blood. He was dead. I sat with my face on his chest and screamed and cried . . . while my babies watched. I did not wake up.

   

In the next dream, we were at a park and Rob walked up to us. Without saying a word, he shot Emmett in the heart and in the head. Still asleep.

   

In the next one, Emmett and I and had stopped at Walgreens to grab some drinks on the way to the movie theater. As we walked out to our car, there Rob was . . . waiting for us. Without saying a word, he shot Emmett in the heart and in the head. I still didn’t wake up.

The next dream started out with us at a family reunion. All of Emmett’s family was gathered at the cabin on Bear Lake. We were laughing and talking, and the kids were running around everywhere. It was a perfect day, just like many others we had spent at the lake. We were all getting ready to head down to the water when a truck pulled up. Without saying a word, Rob got out of his truck and ran toward us. By now, I knew what was coming and I started to scream. “Rob . . . No . . . please, please let this just be a dream. … Please stop. Just talk with him Rob . . . and he will listen. I am right here, I need you to stop. Rob, I know you are scared. I know you are hurting . . . but please put down that gun and look at me. You have never met me before . . . but I know why you are here . . . and I need you to stop. I hope this is just a dream. Please Rob . . . I am begging you. I need him. … Please don’t shoot!”

   

All of Emmett’s family members were frozen. They had no idea of what I knew was coming. It was like everyone was moving in slow motion: Rob running toward Emmett, my words, his family looking at me like I was crazy, and the kids following me as I chased him. Without saying a word, Rob took out his gun and he shot . . . in slow motion . . . two bullets. One hit Emmett in the head . . . and I watched it sink into his skull. The next bullet came immediately afterwards, and I saw it pierce Emmett’s skin and sink deep into his heart.

 

Wake up Ashlee . . . Please wake up. This is just a dream. It isn’t real. Everything is going to be okay. You just have to WAKE up. I couldn’t wake myself up. I walked around, and everyone was still moving in slow motion. Every tear fell like it was made of syrup. Every scream was drawn out and deep. The pain inside of my heart felt as if I were watching all of these people grieving for the very first time. We sat there on the beach staring at Emmett’s dead body, with no one knowing what to do. Our five children knelt at his side weeping tears over his dead, lifeless body.

When I finally woke up, I lay back in bed, sick to my stomach. That dream wasn’t real . . . but the ending was real, and it had already happened. Emmett had been shot by a gun: once in the heart, and once in the head. As much as I tried to ignore it, that fact was real . . . and that was why he was gone.

   

I had a dream . . . but it wasn’t a dream for the betterment of this world, or a dream where I could make a difference for anyone. No I had a dream that haunted me. Its power weighed heavily on my mind. Emmett was gone . . . and that wasn’t going to change. No matter how many times my dreams tried to change the scenario . . .  the ending was always the same.

    

I lay in my bed for a long time . . . not knowing how to get out of the horrible cycle. I thought of all my life’s dreams that had been shattered by those two bullets. I thought about the hopes that had built my family and the dreams for our future, which were now just a distant memory.

I can remember exactly where I was, when as a young teen, I experienced the moment when my dream was written. I was sitting in a Young Women’s class and we were talking about setting goals and reaching for our dreams. Our teachers had given us a photo of ourselves with a transparent picture of the temple covering our photo. I knew right then and there that I would not give up until all of my dreams had been fulfilled. On that day, I wrote out in my mind a laundry list, a bucket list, of all the things I would do before I died.

   

Getting married was at the top of it my list. I had dreamed of the life I would have as a young mother and an adoring wife. I imagined what my children would look like, and I pictured growing old one day and becoming a grandmother.

I never dreamed of having anything more than the life I actually had on the afternoon of March 11, 2011. I was living my dreams. I never wanted to change the world or become the first female president. I never hoped to run a corporation. My dreams were about dirty diapers and spit-up on my shirt. I had dreamed of being surrounded by little arms that needed me in every way. I even loved being a poor student with Emmett. I wanted to struggle through school together . . . because that meant we needed each other. I loved that we had lived in tiny apartments with a bunch of little kids. We had cooked Top Ramen and eaten it by candlelight. We had pinched pennies to buy bookshelves from thrift stores. My dream had always been to have my own garden and to teach my babies how to make things grow. I loved preparing meals and scrubbing floors. I dreamed of nothing more than a simple life . . . and it was right there. I had it. I had reached my dream.

   

On that fateful day, I spent my morning picking out laundry baskets for a new and improved laundry system I had developed for my newly-expanded family. I was so excited to have matching baskets in which I could organize and separate everyone’s laundered clothes. As I walked to my car—giddy that I had found exactly what I’d been looking for—I couldn’t wait to show my purchases to Emmett . . . and I hoped the baskets would be as exciting to him as they were to me.

   

However, what I didn’t know as I skipped to my car that morning, was that my dream to make my laundry room beautiful and new . . . would be a dream I would never have the opportunity of sharing with my husband. He would never see those baskets full of clean clothes that I couldn’t wait to show him. That little dream . . . was one I would never enjoy.

 (One of Tytus' only pictures with him.)

I remember a few times as a child going to a Broadway show with my father called Les Misérables. It has become one of my all-time favorite memories with my dad, and I have grown to love the show’s music and storyline. It is about a man who went from being a prisoner to becoming a prominent and successful businessman in his society. There is one particular song from Les Misérables that has come to my mind a lot in the past three years, a song, which unfortunately, I have been able to relate to on many levels. One of the female characters in the musical, Fantine, sings about the dreams she had hoped for as a young woman, after those hopes have all been destroyed

I Dreamed a Dream   (by Herbert Kretzmer)

There was a time when men were kind


When their voices were soft


And their words inviting


There was a time when love was blind


And the world was a song


And the song was exciting


There was a time


Then it all went wrong





I dreamed a dream in time gone by


When hope was high


And life worth living


I dreamed that love would never die


I dreamed that God would be forgiving


Then I was young and unafraid


And dreams were made and used and wasted


There was no ransom to be paid


No song unsung, no wine untasted





But the tigers come at night


With their voices soft as thunder


As they tear your hope apart


As they turn your dream to shame





He slept a summer by my side


He filled my days with endless wonder


He took my childhood in his stride


But he was gone when autumn came



And still I dream he’ll come to me


That we will live the years together


But there are dreams that cannot be


And there are storms we cannot weather



I had a dream my life would be


So different from this hell I’m living


So different now from what it seemed


Now life has killed the dream I dreamed


   

At times, life will seem to kill our dreams. The night Emmett was shot in the heart and head will forever stand in my memories as the pinnacle moment of losing my dreams. It was my darkest hour. It was the moment when I lost hope in all my plans . . . and the moment when all the darkness of the world seemed to destroy the passion I had for any dream I have ever hoped to achieve.

We all have dreams we hope to realize. We spend our lives creating them in our minds . . . praying they will all come true. Some of these dreams will remain inside of us . . . while others will play out just as we planned.

There will be many of us who wait a long time for our biggest dreams to come true, and there will be times when we aren’t able to achieve even our smallest dreams. Life doesn’t always wait around and ask us what our dreams are . . . because usually, life just happens.

   

Some of us might have every single dream we have ever wished for when we’ve blown out a candle or wished upon a star . . . unfold before our very eyes. Everything we ever thought we wanted . . . actually staring us in the face. We have our dreams in our laps . . . and everything feels close to perfect. Aside from the fact that in his last few months, Emmett seemed to be struggling with what I thought was a mid-life crisis . . . I had reached that point. I was living every single dream I had ever dreamed. I was scrubbing toilets and I was buying laundry baskets . . . and it was amazing. I was living my dreams . . . but on that horrible night, all of those dreams were shattered by two shots of a gun.

Dreams can be as big as five kids and a mini-van . . . or as small as celebrating the hard work of redoing your laundry room. It doesn’t matter how small our dreams seem to others, they are all significant to us. That is what makes them OUR dreams. We made the plans, we had the hopes . . . and we are making them happen.

   

Some walk this life constantly seeking a dream they may never receive; sometimes even the worthy goals we set for ourselves will not be met on this earth. The yearning for a dream that may never come is a lonely cry. At some time or another, we will all experience the moment when we realize that a dream we have been seeking will never be, or when a dream we have lived is lost forever. It is a desolate feeling that you can only understand after you have been there . . . standing alone.

   

Dreams will come every single night as we sleep . . . but other kinds of dreams will also be in our minds, as we hope for bright future paths to walk.

    

Christ’s love for you is not based on your merits in mortality, and He doesn’t love you any more just because you reach your goals. He may be excited that you have worked hard and have consequently received certain blessings, but His love for you is not because of your titles, degrees, recognitions, or medals. His love is unconditional. He loved you long before you even set your goal. He believed in you before you got the prize. He saw worth in you long before you gained the recognition, earned the degree, or received the title.

Heavenly Father knows there are moments when you stand alone . . .  feeling like you haven’t accomplished any of the things you set out to do when you were younger. He hurts that you cannot see your worth even when you have not achieved the merits you seek. He isn’t sad that you aren’t where you want to be . . . He hurts because you can’t see that where you are is enough.

   

Even if every dream you have ever hoped for feels like it is impossible . . . or if every dream you have ever lived . . . feels like it has been taken away . . . you haven’t reached the end. Tonight as you go to sleep, a new chapter of dreams might begin. Don’t spend your life waiting for the dreams you long to be living; live the dreams that you wake up with each morning. Don’t wait for your dreams to come true to see His hand in your life. Yes, it is good to have goals and hopes for yourself . . . but don’t let the dreams that remain to be achieved . . . hold you back from living the roles you are playing right now.

   

Dreams are meant to add to your happiness . . . not to be the goal you must achieve before you can be happy. Happiness is where you are, right now, today. Maybe you are working at a job you hate with people who annoy you. Maybe you are “just” a mom and you dream of a life that you see on the big screen. Maybe you are a dad who wishes your kids could see how hard you work for them. Maybe you are a single parent doing it all alone . . . with no one there to cheer you on or give you praise for your sacrifices. Maybe you are a grandma who lives across the ocean from any of the tiny hugs you long to receive. Maybe you are a young high school boy who sits alone in your room . . . wondering why you don’t have any friends, or a teenage girl who has never had a first kiss. Maybe you are a lonely man sitting in a jail cell wondering why you made the decisions you made that got you there. Whoever you are and wherever you stand . . . find a reason to smile. Today may be all you have left of the dreams you have already achieved.

   

Those dreams that night freaked the crap out of me. They shook me to the core for days, but one thing they helped me realize is that it could have been worse. What if Rob had brought a gun to our house and we had all been forced to watch as he shot Emmett? What if we had been at a family reunion and Emmett’s cousins and aunts and uncles had witnessed his death? Our story was tragic . . . but what if it had been even more tragic? I came to understand that its plot was the simple version of what could have been even worse.

Life is going to be hard. It is going to knock you down. There will be days when you will not see the good in the moments you stand . . . but eventually, you can still find a reason to smile again.

   

I have a dream that one day, selfishness will not destroy families. I have a dream that we will be true to the promises we make. I have a dream that people will be real, honest, and kind. I have a dream that no one will ever feel abandoned, rejected, or not good enough. I have a dream that the people of this world will fight the darkness that tries to destroy us . . . and hold fast to the power that can make our dreams come true. Dreams never die.

   

There will be days when it feels like all of your dreams are lost. You may be standing in your darkest hour right now . . . waiting for hope that even your smallest dream can still exist. I promise you that better days await you. Don’t give up on yourself . . . and don’t give up on the light that is still all around you. Even if every dream you have ever dreamed seems to have been shattered before your eyes . . . you still have a reason to live. You are enough . . . all by yourself. Jesus Christ has felt your pain. He has heard your cries. He knows where it hurts . . . because he has been right where you are. Don’t give up on Him. He is right there. Pray for the light to help you see His hand extended to you through the darkness. And when you find it . . . grab on and never let it go. He will carry you to the dreams He has prepared for you. They may be different from the ones you planned for yourself . . . but they will be perfect, because His plan is greater than any we could create for ourselves. He is the healer of our pain and the writer of our script; live the dreams he has orchestrated just for you.