Somewhere a journey begins at the end
of the worldly existence we know,
Somewhere a path stretches over the stars
and rivers of memories flow . . .
Somewhere a silence is heard far away
and the brightness of day fills the night,
Where the trials of life
are resolved into peace
When a soul finds it's way to the light.
These words come off of a sympathy card I received a couple of days ago. I find the words comforting as I contemplate my mother in the afterlife. Is she whole? Is she deliriously happy to be reunited with family
who have preceded her? Has she whizzed through whatever purification process the afterlife entails before one can be in the energy of our Creator?
I have lost my share of loved ones over the years - aunts, uncles, grandparents, and friends. I don't believe I have longed to know the answers to the above questions with such intensity as I do for my mother. I long for her to share a sign with someone in our family that she is finally free of pain. That she is in a realm of happiness we cannot imagine.
Last week I dreamt of my mother - the first and only time so far since her death Jan. 2nd. In the dream she lies in a bed in a convalescent home I've never been in. She remains asleep, looking much better than she did in the days before she died. As I sit in the room beside her, in this dream, she conveys to me silently that she is surprised that it is taking several days to die after she made the decision to leave. She also didn't anticipate the pain before the end. Neither did we, Mom. Thank God for morphine.
I have the feeling that one of these days some message will come through. Perhaps another dream, or the whisper of one of our angels, or simply a knowing deep in my heart. I'm counting on it.