by Thornton, EJ
I saw the path, leading into the old woods, which started right at the back of the yard and I began to run toward it, feeling like a kid again. There was a young couple close in on the path, who had been lucky enough to steal a moment together. I breezed right past them and the girl's hair tousled a little. They broke their kiss and she looked in my direction. At a loss, she shrugged her shoulders and they started to kiss again. I ran faster and faster and faster and then I jumped into the air and flew. I flew above, in and around the trees. I flew beside the birds and up into the clouds. I looked down at Mother. She'd managed to scrounge up her old rocker and was patiently waiting for me to return. I flew around her a few times. She smiled. I bet she thought I was crazy. I felt free! I never felt so free. I could fly. I could see everything. I could remember everything. I could be anywhere with anyone anytime in Heaven or on Earth. I knew this was only the beginning of a great adventure of learning and growing and sharing and loving. This was incredibly awesome!
After a while, I settled back down and returned to Mother. She shook her head as if I'd pulled some silly stunt like when I was young. "Are you quite finished?" I thought she'd be angry or maybe annoyed. But she was fine. I think she just missed saying stuff like that to me.
"Yes, ma'am," I said, playfully returning her tone. "I missed you so much, Mother."
"I know, son, I know."
I held her hand tight.
We walked through the neighborhood where I grew up. I'd walked these roads many, many times in my youth. It was nice to be here again. It was different, too. I could see everything, people, and all the angels, too, going about their business of teaching and protecting their charges.
I saw other angels, too. There was one young angel at an intersection. He was completely engrossed with the people going through that intersection. "What is he doing?" I asked Mother, perplexed.
"If I were to guess, I'd say that he was killed at that intersection. He was probably doing something stupid or illegal or both. And now it is his responsibility to make sure that nobody else gets killed at that intersection," she explained.
"It is his responsiblity to protect others against what killed him, so that nobody else's family suffers the way his did. Is that right?" I asked, trying to figure out the meaning of this.
"Something like that," Mother confirmed. Then she went on to explain, "God's plan is unique for each of us and second guessing it is a waste of time. Every time I've seen something like this, it is His way of making sure that we all learn from our mistakes and if possible, make sure other people learn our lessons without paying with their lives."
As we passed through the intersection, the young angel acknowledged us with a smile. Then he saw a car trying to run a yellow light, which was about to turn red. We saw the driver's angel trying to get him to slow down. Failing that, the driver's angel motioned to the intersection's angel that his charge was in trouble. So the intersection's angel shined his angel light on the reckless driver approaching, hoping to make everyone else aware of the danger. Each of the other drivers' angels tried to make sure that their charges saw the angel light. One driver's attention was diverted because she was trying to settle an argument in the back seat between her children. The child closest to the window yelled, "Look!" and pointed to the approaching speeding car. Finally all the drivers were aware. The car sped through the red light. The danger passed. All the angels sighed with relief and thanked one another. Their charges continued safely on to their respective destinations.
Mother and I walked on. It was a beautiful, clear night. All the stars shined brightly. We walked along silently for awhile and enjoyed one another's company. "I need to talk to you about tomorrow," she said, in a suddenly serious tone.
"The funeral?" I asked.
"The whole funeral day. The funeral day is an incredibly hard day for the ones who loved you. Funerals amplify family bonds. If they're good bonds, they're strengthened. If they're weak bonds, they're further stressed. It brings to light what the problems are. Sometimes it takes breaking things, so they can be rebuilt. But your family will pull together, like when Sheila died," I agreed. I remembered. "But tomorrow is your funeral day. It's an important day for you, too. You can do so much good for them. It's traditional that the person being let go gives each person left behind a gift. It can be as simple as reminiscing a wonderful memory or staging someone to say something at precisely the right time. It could be helping them unexpectedly find something special you shared with them or presenting them with a new and special gift. It's up to you. You need to spend tonight thinking about it. You need to spend the rest of this night alone. Go wherever you want to go. Go wherever you'll be inspired. Then when you're ready, get to work. George, Sheila, your father and I are only a whisper away. We'll be there when and if you need us. But you go now, son. Go and figure out what it is that you want to give each one of your loved ones and how it is you're going to give it to them." She blew me a kiss and disappeared into the night.
Chapter 10
I was alone; without George or Glory, Sheila or Jeremi, Jeannie or anyone else. My thoughts found me flying, I weaved in and out of clouds. I found an eagle soaring, so I soared right beside it. I felt the flap of his wings, I was so close. I thought about Peter and his love of eagles. I thought, I must find a way to give him an eagle tomorrow. I thanked the eagle for his inspiration and flew away, letting thoughts of my loved ones guide me. Sarah, for her it has to be music, it'll be her favorite hymn. I'll find a way tomorrow to play it, so she hears it. My thoughts then turned to Jeremi. I had to give him something he could lean on when he needed inner strength, something to help him find his way. I trusted I'd recognize it when I saw it. I wanted Glory to know that my love for her was undying. The next time I paid attention to my surroundings, I was back in the house.
I was in our bedroom. There was Glory fast asleep in our bed. Sarah was asleep next to her. They both looked so sweet and peaceful.
Naomi and Grandmama sat and talked on the edge of the bed. "Good morning, Martin," they said sweetly.
There was a stack of special cards and letters Glory kept on the desk. I knew the last Valentine's Day card I'd given her was somewhere in there. I stood there, perplexed.
"What's the matter, Martin?" Naomi asked.
"I want to give her my last Valentine's card again," I explained. "But how do I do that?"
"Where is it?"
"Here on the desk, somewhere."
"It's there, third from the top," she said.
"Okay, now I found it. How do I make her find it?" I asked.
We looked around. Then Grandmama suggested, "Pick it up and place it between the desk and the wall, like it fell. Leave a small corner visible, so we can make her see it with angel light."
So I did. Then I sat down in my chair. I watched as Naomi gently woke Glory up. She opened her eyes and looked around like she did every day. Then she looked over at Sarah, who was asleep where I would have been and she let out a heavy sigh, saying, "Oh, Martin."
Naomi, Grandmama and I focused our angel light on the exposed corner of the card. Glory sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes still cloudy from sleep. She rubbed them and when she opened them again, she saw what we wanted her to see. She stared at it a moment, trying to figure out what it was. She got up and picked it up. She realized what it was and it took her breath away.
She sat down at the desk, read it all over again and clutched it to her heart. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said softly. "I'll always love you, too." She blew a kiss in the direction of my chair, which I caught. I got up and kissed her cheek. She got chillbumps. I knew she felt it.
Again she sighed, stood up and said, "Help me get through this day, Lord." She stood the card up on her dresser and went into the bathroom.
"That worked well," I said to Naomi and Grandmama. They agreed. "Well, that's one," I said. "I'd still like to make this easier on Glory today, but I think I'm going to need everyone's help." As they had promised, Mother, Dad, Sheila and
George all appeared, right on cue.
"Good show, Martin." George approved of the card as her gift.
"You were watching?" I asked him.
"We all were," he answered. They all smiled. "What would you like to do now?"
"Inspire the older children to make a nice breakfast for the family, so that Glory can relax," I said.
Grandmama stayed to wake up Sarah. The rest of us went to the living room. Children were everywhere. Peter's children and a few extra nieces, nephews, cousins and grandchildren were asleep on the couch and floor in the living room. All the bedrooms were full with visitors, and Peter, his wife, Jeremi and Viv. Sarah shared Glory's room, so that Peter and Melinda could have a room to themselves. The children all looked so sweet when they slept. Everyone's angel was nearby and all of them greeted us as we checked on their charges.
Sheila went to her oldest and did the feather trick with her to get her up. The poor girl ended up flailing and woke up her cousin next to her. A series of "Quit it!" and "Look at what you did!" woke up the other children nearby. About then, Sarah came down the hall shushing the noisemakers, hoping the little children would stay asleep to keep what little peace remained in the house for a while more. Sarah instructed the older girls to follow her into the kitchen. They got busy. Before long, the aroma of fresh coffee, bacon, eggs, grits and toast took over the house.
The angels were busy, too. They made sure things were cooked perfectly, when the girls did all the necessary things to make this a nice breakfast. About the time they had the table set and all the food warming, waiting for everyone to come in, Sarah went over to the older girls and put an arm around each of them. She kissed them each on the top of their heads and told them she loved them. Their angels did the same to each of the girls, too.
Glory came into the kitchen to this wonderful breakfast surprise and proclaimed "Lord have mercy!" The girls both ran to their grandma, who held them tight. "Thank you very much. I know you know how much this means to me." When Glory let them go, she wiped tears from her eyes.
"I guess you'd better wake everybody up," Sarah said.
The girls--who had earned the privilege--woke each one up, with as much force as necessary. After being tickled or kissed, punched or gently nudged, each one of the cousins was awake. The noise that commenced was deafening, but beautiful. The children stretched, yawned, punched each other, tattled, laughed and yelled a little. It was a fairly normal beginning to an extraordinary day for all of us. Glory and Sarah stood in the kitchen, watched and snickered. Peter and Melinda soon joined the breakfast crew. That was everyone, except Jeremi.
"Henry! Where are you?" I called out.
"In here!" He responded from inside the garage.
Henry called us out to the garage. There was Jeremi asleep, with several empty beer cans in the garbage right beside him. He was slumped up against a box, on the hard concrete floor. Henry, George, and I, stood there watching him. I shook my head, half in disgust and half in pity. I had to spare Glory this. I had to protect her from this.
Henry explained, "He sneaked out last night and bought beer, then he came back and sat in here and drank and cried himself to sleep."
"What are we going to do?" George asked.
I looked around the garage to figure this out. I was at a complete loss. There Jeremi was, laid out. Glory was in the next room. Each one having one of the hardest days of their lives. Here I was, at a loss for anything to do about it.
George asked, "About his present, what did you decide?"
"I decided it had to be a symbol of strength, something he could see, have and touch. I knew that I'd recognize it when I saw it today," I answered.
George, Henry and I looked around the garage with that thought in mind. Our eyes all came to rest on the same thing hanging on a rack over Jeremi's head. It was a symbol of strength, accomplishment and determination. It was representative of something both Jeremi and I loved and shared. He could take it and have it with him. It was the perfect gift for him! I stared at it and stared at it and tried to figure out how I was going to give it to him and how I could make him understand why I gave it to him. Again, I was at a loss.
"Now that we've found it, how do we give it to him?" We pondered the predicament for a bit.
"Would you mind if I did it?" Henry asked.
"By all means," I replied. I watched a master at work. First, he grabbed the present and stretched one corner of it and hooked it on the corner of the box that Jeremi was sleeping on. Then, very gently and quietly, he moved the support behind the box, just a couple of inches. Next, he started to move one corner of the box backward, barely enough for Jeremi to have to readjust. With his readjustment, the box gave way and Jeremi fell back with the box. The present fell down on top of him.
Henry smiled and said. "Mission accomplished!" I applauded him.
Jeremi woke up sputtering and cursing. trying to figure out what had just fallen on him. He frantically pulled it off and threw it to the side. He sat up and looked around and tried to get his bearings. He stretched and still cursed as he accomplished sitting up. He reached for the last swig of the beer that was in the can nearby.
"Yuck! That was nasty!" He said and wiped his mouth, but swallowed none-the-less.
Henry and George pointed their angel light onto the gift to get Jeremi to notice it. I sat beside him. "Son, you've got to get yourself together, today and every day hereafter. You're in big trouble, son, and I'm worried about you. There's something I want you to have. Look over there. Look over there!" He turned his head toward the present and cocked it as he tried to figure out what it was. His eyes got big as he realized what it was.
"Oh, God!" he said and began to cry. "Dad, it's your sweater. It's your letterman's sweater from college. How did it get here?" He looked around frantically, trying to figure out how it had gotten there. Failing that, he picked it up and put it on and sniffed one of the arms. "Oh man, I can still smell your aftershave." He started to cry again.
I put my arm around him. "Jeremiah, I want you to have this sweater. I want you to put it on anytime you want me close by and to feel my arms around you."
Tears rolled down his cheeks. "It feels like your arms are around me when I have this on. Oh, God! Dad, I miss you so much." He sobbed.
"Jeremiah, get yourself together. Your mama's right inside that door and she's waiting for you."
He looked toward the garage door to the house and could hear the commotion of the family gathering at the breakfast table. He stood up, wiped his face with his sleeve, blew his nose on an old dried-up paper towel from the trash and took a deep breath. Having regained his composure, he went inside. We went with him. Everyone turned to see his entrance. He posed proudly in the doorway.
Peter saw the sweater and looked at his mother immediately to see what her reaction was. Glory let out a slight gasp and Peter scooted his chair back and was about to stand to confront Jeremi about the sweater.
Glory grabbed Peter's hand to stop him. She never took her eyes off Jeremi. He stood there anxious to hear her reaction. She was very sure and supportive. "You look handsome, son. You look just like your father." They both exchanged smiles, and Jeremi sighed with relief. "It's fitting that you have that sweater. Yes, it is. Are you gonna just stand there posing or are you gonna come eat?" Jeremi did exactly that. Peter honored Glory's decision and scooted his chair back in and ate his breakfast.
In a replay of the dinner the night before, people picked at their food, even though I could tell it was delicious. Then they began to talk and then laugh. The lighter the mood got, the more they started to eat and act like themselves again.
The only exceptions were Glory and Jeremi. They were both in their own worlds. I went over to talk to them. "Wake up, you two." They both straightened up in their chairs at the same time, realizing they had been drifting into daydreams. "I wish I could tell you how wonderful it is to be here. I wish I could get that through to you, so you stopped aching for me. It's so wonderful here. I'm w
ith everyone. I see everyone, living and passed. I can do almost anything, like paint sunrises, soar with eagles, give you presents." Glory clutched her heart like she'd done with the card earlier and Jeremi smelled the sweater again. They both sighed. "Come on, both of you, eat, you need your strength. It's going to be a long day." I could tell I'd communicated with them, but they still ate very slowly. At least they were eating something, that made me feel a little better.
Glory left the table without eating much more. She had to finish dressing. One by one, they all got up and cleared their plates. Sarah collared the two oldest boys to do the breakfast dishes. They did, but grumbled about it. Sarah promised to fix their attitudes if she heard anything else. They complied.
I saw Peter head out to the backyard by himself. I guessed he needed a moment's peace away from all the children. He sat at the picnic table at the edge of the patio, leaned back, his elbows on the table and his feet outstretched.
"Hey, Dad. I wish you could hear me. There are so many things I still want to tell you. You're my hero. You're my rock. What am I going to do without you? I'm sorry for those times when I was young and stupid and you were just doing what you had to. I said so many hateful things. I kept meaning to tell you how sorry I was for that, but I never got around to it. I was afraid to bring it up again. Now here I am. I want so badly to tell you how sorry I am. I want you to know how much I admire and love you. I wish so much I could tell for sure that you could hear me."
His speech brought tears to my eyes. "Oh, Peter, we're all sorry for things of the past, but we get through them. You've grown into a man that I am so proud of. I am listening and I'll prove it to you. Just stare at the sky. I'll be right back."
I left to find my friend the eagle, the one that had given me the idea for Peter's gift.
He was on his perch on the edge of a cliff. I looked him in the eyes. He saw me. I picked up a loose feather from the ground beneath him. I asked him for his help. I flew away and he followed me. It took a few minutes but soon I could see the house. I could see Peter staring up at the sky. My eagle close behind me, we circled low and wide, right in Peter's line of sight. I could tell he saw us. He stood up and moved toward us, although the yard prevented him from getting too far. I took my leave of the eagle, but he kept circling for me for several more minutes.