Droplets in the Sky
When I was young, I asked Mom if Daddy could see us from heaven. She told me she wasn't sure because there is no pain in heaven and she thought if he looked down and saw us hurting, it would cause him pain, so maybe not.
I half hope that's true, because I wouldn't want Mom and Dad in pain for me now.
I never quite believed that though. I have this idea that when you're in heaven, you don't feel sad for those you love down here because you already know fhe ending, and it's beautiful - an Amercian movie ending rather than a gritty, realistic foreign film ending. And if time has no meaning there, all the sad days down here are over in the twinkling of an eye.
I think I have a concussion so I was laying in bed, listening to my head throb, and I found myself thinking, If I were to die right now, all I would want time for, before heading off to That Beautiful Place, is to reassure my daughter that she'll be okay without me, and that I'm in a better place, waiting, and there's no pain. That lead me to wonder if all the people in heaven are trying to send that message back, all in different ways.
Maybe one person brushes your hair away from your face with a light wind through the window on a winter night like tonight.
Maybe another kisses the back of your neck so impossibly lightly that you smile briefly in your sleep.
Maybe a bunch of them pull down a sheet hung out to dry in heaven and shake water droplets into the sky and you get the momentary relief from pain brought by the sound of rain falling on the roof.
Maybe an old man, who is young again, puts his toes in the lake and you turn to the sound thinking it was a fish coming up for a fly and all you see is the slowly spreading ring on the surface of the water.
Maybe a bird chirping in the morning is your Mom singing in a heavenly kitchen while fixing breakfast. Thats the way I would like to let you know I'm okay. Singing in the kitchen at dawn and you hearing a happy, happy bird.