Thursday, August 13, 2009
A Perfect Cloudless Day
A perfect cloudless hot summer day. She gets home from work feeling run down; today is the first day of another summer virus. So she sets up a cushion on the patio lounge chair to relax in the late afternoon balm.
Her spouse brings in the mail; brings out to her a special letter. It is in her mother's handwriting, with her late Grandfather's return address. She opens it--it contains a card that says "I miss you" and inside is a check for her inheritance from his will.
She cries. She misses him so much. And while the grief threatens to overwhelm her, she looks up. Above her, in an otherwise cloudless sky, hovers an oddly shaped cloud. It fully captures her attention in the midst of her sorrow. As soon as she sees it, the cloud hesitates, and then begins to shrink slowly from sight. Wonder gradually displaces grief. Suddenly, she understands. He is here, attending her reciept of his gift. Making sure she remembers that he loves her.
The cloud does not blow along to the horizon like clouds do; it simply grows smaller and smaller until it dissipates directly above her. A sense of peace, and bittersweet sorrow, and gratitude for a lifetime of memories are all that remain.
Til I see you in Heaven, Goompa. My life with you was a precious gift. Thank you.