Before she died:
*The Promise
“If there is a way to contact you, if there is a way to let you know that I’m okay, if there is a way to send a sign, I promise you, I will find it.”
*Outage
Hours before, the power went out. She lay in the darkness, the hiss of the oxygen supply silent. An interruption to the flow of electricity. Lights out; she never liked the dark. I promised the lights would be back on soon.
*Transition
It took a long time. I held her hand.
“The next time you see me, you won’t recognize me.”
After she died:
*Surges and Overloads
Over the next six months, lights burnt out. And not just burnt out but exploded, crackle, zap, poof. East coast and west. Her house and mine. Outside and inside. Again and again. Sometimes the same fixture three times in a week.
*A Promise Fulfilled
She is energy now. She is light. She is vibration, she is particle and wave.
©JEF 2011
1941--2002
2 comments:
Bless. My own mom's anniverssary of her death is coming up soon. It's amazing how something so intimately shared by millions is so unique to each person.
Mow,
Beautifully put. Universal but so singular...
I send you good thoughts for your mom's anniversary date as well.
Thanks.
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