See Installment #4 of Foggy Mirrors here

It wasn’t all darkness and night, Elanī had surrounded herself with beautiful, loving, supportive and wise peoples. She had been greatly loved and had passed down that love and light to her child. There was still much light, and growing in strength in this world. And in her grief, that was what she clung to dearly.

It was three days after the funeral, three days after the debacle her brother had stirred up at their Matron’s Honoring of Life. He was unwell, she knew, but it still angered and hurt her. On that third day of mourning though, the first letter arrived. Elanī was confused. She recognized that familiar, trembling handwriting, as she hesitantly drew the envelope out from her post box. Perhaps, it was written a long time ago and had gotten lost in the mail? Intrigued, Elanī tore open the envelope and to her utter and complete amazement, began reading the words of her Matron’s:

“Dear Morning Glory, 

You need not feel badly; I am your Matron who has loved you from before birth. So please put your mind to rest and let life take its course. I have discovered that in life we give a lot and we receive a lot. That makes life so beautiful – love. 

Now Elaniah, I must tell you this: You are not to be too sad for me. I am the most joyful spirit in the world. And yes, there are others who are the same. I am never discouraged, sad or lonely. I am as happy as a lark and finding joy in so many, many things.

Before I transitioned over, I sat down with your brother Samuel and shared with him a few things. Being the only boy and my first born, I felt he should know about the will. I will not burden you with those things, though. I just want you to be well, happy and properly looked after. When you think of me now, just think of my big smile, because that’s the way I am all the time now. I hope that one day soon, you too will know the joy I have. 

I love you so very much. Keep well.
Loads of love and kisses and hugs for you,
Mommy” 

Her eyes greedily searched the letter searching for some proof, any proof that her suspicions were unfounded. But there at the top of the first page, shakily stood the truth. The letter was dated with today’s date. Somehow her Matron, that larger-than-life, powerhouse of a woman who had borne and lovingly reared her, had found a way to talk to her daughter through the unfathomable veils of death. Elanī folded up the letter, placed it back in its plain white envelope and promptly began to cry.

Installment #5 Photo Credit by Davide Baraldi on Unsplash

Melanie Christian Writes blog posts are short stories, sharings about writing and editing and inspired personal growth tips acquired for Writer-Editor, Melanie Christian