The month of May hovers like the constant of shadows. They dress in darkness these hues of shadows never leaving. Most people wore black that day but I dressed in white. I wanted to wear the color I knew she was wearing too. I remember kissing the coffin as I laid a pearl-peddled rose upon it. I believed the touch of my lips to the casket would be the closest thing to feeling her again.
I was wrong.
I’m
used to being woken up mid of the night by little hands. You know, bad dreams,
potty needs, and the long list of just because needs. I was deep in sleep when
I saw her. My sweet sister full of the fragile beauty she was. Lengthy high
lights of mahogany down her back, thick freckles across her perfect nose,
bright hazel eyes painted with brown and green, I'm groping the air starved to touch her. Dainty hands of feminine
fingers reaching back to me. Then suddenly outside of my dream she strokes my arm just slightly. My eyes flip
wide then instantly my heart suffocates in the knowing that this touch was not
real, not her, just a dream. Turing over to greet the dark with my boys frame traced within it and I’m struck to the core. He is not there. No one's there, just the hollow air resting in night’s
silhouettes. I rise to check the beds of my boys. Sound they are, both sleeping.
Could
this really have been? I know, just as I know I am breathing now, that my
sister touched me. Even this, the lay of her hand, is not all there is.
He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses.
Rev. 19:13
After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands" Rev. 7:9
He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses.
Rev. 19:13
After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands" Rev. 7:9
(L) Lauren Wolcott Walker, (C) Hailey Elaine Wolcott, (R) Emily Wolcott Murphy
Goosebumps here. I do believe that there are times when heaven reaches down. What a gift to receive a loving touch this way.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, Emily! I remember your family in my prayers always, but especially at this time.
ReplyDeleteThank you laura's! It means much to know others care.
ReplyDeleteDear one. Believing with you because they've come to me, too.
ReplyDelete