SO… Two weeks ago, marked the third anniversary of my mother’s … You know. Sure, I have always hated, loathed, and downright detested this day. Like I needed an anniversary to remember?? As if I would ever forget for the rest of my life.
But, the thing that has made me SO uneasy, I’ve determined, are the words themselves. The anniversary of my mother’s…. DEATH. I trip over them like a raised nail looming off the page on the calendar each and every year.
Maybe, in many ways I feel her presence even now. As I edit my novel, I hear her looking over my shoulder saying, “Now Mary Leslie don’t split an infinitive or misspell a word.” Or I debate, “did this quote come from Shakespeare or the Bible?” And I can hear her as clear as day “the majority of the things worth repeating are either from Shakespeare or the Bible.” She is always there with a comment that can make me laugh or when it comes to grammar fill me with utter dread!
I could say the other reason I stumble over those words of finality is because as a believer in God, I believe in eternal life. I mean, after all, it is the bedrock of our belief system. Now, heaven itself is a different matter. For some, it would be the perfect golf course. For others, a tropical beach reminiscent of Club Med. Maybe even a fishing pond in repose at sunset. For some, it is the grandeur of snow-covered mountains that puts us in close proximity to heaven anyway. Regardless of your idea, it is as if we just wake up someplace else. With a better mind and a healed body. The latter has always been a big draw for me. What does heaven look like to you?
And then it came to me. Eureka! Sarge has merely had a “change of address.” I can live with that. And I think it is just clever enough that Sarge herself would be amused. She loved a good turn of phrase!
Next year when you see me on or around October 3 you can remind me of my mother’s “change of address.” You can even ask me “how are Sarge’s new digs?” I might even smile and respond “heavenly.”