It’s Wednesday and I’ve been contributing so long to our story, I just sort of wound up here. Seriously, I wanted to bring the story full circle with an epilogue. And I have a request for anyone still reading. I’ll get to that later.
Here’s where we left off.
She was home … and we both were at peace…
Epilogue
Even though he was retired, Fr. Pat concelebrated Mom’s Mass of Christian Burial and offered the homily. An octogenarian himself, he knew Mom for over 25 years, first as a young priest in the parish and later returning as pastor.
During the homily, he looked straight at me. “Samantha, your Mom was so very proud of you. Every Sunday she would tell me ‘Sam did this’ or Sam did that.’ I watched you grow up, not only myself, but through the eyes of your mother. Even when you made questionable choices, it was your mother who defended you. She was behind you all the way from grade school, through high school and into college. She always told me what you were doing in Ohio and about your family. She may not have said it, but she loved you so very much.”
Normally, being singled out like that would have made me squirm. I may have even challenged some of those comments. But I sat with Mom over those last hours and I knew Fr. Pat was spot on. A smile appeared on my face and I looked over at the casket. I could almost see Mom smiling as well.
I found myself driving home alone on the dark black asphalt, seeming darker because of ominous clouds again on the horizon ranging from dark gray to puffs of white. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of white as the sun tried to peek out from behind the clouds. It didn’t succeed, but first a ray rained into the picture, followed by a halo of rays.
I remembered my conversations with the kids when we saw a similar canvas in the sky. They thought the light was heaven shining through.
I knew they were right.
The End.
There you go. That’s our story, for better or worse.
Now for my request. In addition to your thoughts about the story, the exercise and the outcome, I also need a title for the story. You can post them on the blog or you can e-mail me directly at revblt@rochester.rr.com.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the story. I’ve had fun.
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Genius is seldom recognized for what it is — the capacity for hard work.