Dear Mom,
She can hear me now. I can feel her moving around throughout the day like a reassuring hug as if to say, "I'm here, too."
Life.
Hers.
Not even born yet, but still very much alive.
We both stayed by your bedside for those final hours on this side of eternity.
Room 1414.
I wonder if she heard the resonance of the songs we sang to you.
I wonder if you heard me whisper her name in your ear. "Norah Jane".
Norah ... "full of light and wisdom". Brightness in the middle of darkness. And she is.
Jane means "God is merciful and gracious". And He is... even when the reasoning surpasses my own understanding. But to me, "Jane" also represents the strongest most selfless woman I've ever known. You.
I can't help but to feel the gravity.
She isn't born yet but was still by your side when you were called away. I wonder if she felt my heart sink as I watched yours beat its last. Did she hear the echoes of mourning as the doctor came into the room to announce your time of death? Could she sense the angels rejoicing at your Heavenly birth?
Light in the presence of darkness.
I know that you loved her already, but your absence from the rest of this journey still aches.
We miss you, Mom.
Love always,
"Pookie"
One of my Mom’s favorite songs to sing on a sunny day. George was always her favorite Beatle.
Kaleidoscopic Grace 