The Visit

Grief is strange, really. One never knows how one will react. Though, I suppose normal people would probably have cried, maybe even screamed. I, however, have never been accused of being normal. Hence, I felt dazed in my mourning. 

I got the call at work, when my shift was almost complete, but nobody knew. I made sure of it. Though I only told one coworker, my best friend. I texted him as he sat at his desk a couple rows behind mine. He came to me then, as I knew he would. I told him to wait before he told our boss. 

“I only have 30 minutes left of my shift. Let me leave first,” I whispered, as inconspicuously as I could while I sat in my chair, my computer still running, continuing to take phone calls. I dared not look at my other coworkers lest I give myself away. 

He stood next to me, looking down with sympathy in his deep brown eyes. 

“What else do you need from me?” he asked gently. 

“That’s it for now,” I replied quietly. Thankfully, he didn’t hug me. A hug would have brought everything to the surface; I needed it to stay buried. Just for a little longer. 

After the half hour that lasted for an eternity, it was finally 2:00 PM. Time to go home. The lengthy walk to the parking garage seemed longer than usual. Numb, I faked my way to my car, with my polite goodbyes and phony ‘have a good day’ lines. Grateful to be safe in my car, no longer under pretense, I drove the 20 minutes home in a silent haze; only the sounds of the busy streets and the wind occupied my ears and my mind. Relief washed over me when I arrived home, the place silent as my boyfriend was yet at work. Our little apartment sat isolated on the second floor, with a back balcony that faced no neighbors, only the still pond. Comfortably unreachable. 

Inside, I dwelled on the last few weeks that led up to this day, as I stripped off my work uniform, leaving the polo and pants into a heaping pile of gray and black on the bedroom floor. I climbed into my bed with only my socks and undergarments on. The pastel pink comforter, amongst the cream-colored walls and sun shining through the large window, appeared bright and joyful, a stark contrast to its occupant. With earplugs in, weary and spent, I slept an unrestful sleep. My mind was a constant rumination. Only getting up occasionally for necessities, I resigned to stay in my cheery bed, letting my sorrow lull me into fitful dreams. 

Suddenly, I found myself awakened by…something, almost as if I was not alone. As my heart quickened pace, I softly opened my eyes in a squint, unmoving. Upon not see anything but the hideously merry room, I opened them all the way and took out my earplugs. Nothing detected. I sighed in relief. 

I’m officially losing my mind, I surmised as I rubbed my eyes and blinked. Resolving to get back to my unsettled slumber, I replaced my earplugs and shut the light out once again for the darkness behind my lids. As I dozed off, I once more sensed something, a presence, but this time the feeling was more powerful: the familiar touch of a hand on top of mine. I arose not as gracefully as before, evidenced by the trashing of my arms and legs while my eyes flew opened and I looked about wildly. I jumped out of bed and hurriedly searched the rest of my small apartment, determined to prove to myself that nothing was amiss. After my brief search it was as I suspected, and so, I stood a moment in the living room to calm my beating heart. That is, until I saw movement from the corner of my eye, coming from beyond the back sliding glass door. 

Oddly, I immediately forgot about my fears when I gazed upon the beautiful being fluttering throughout the balcony. As if in a trance, I slowly walked to the glass that separated myself from a Monarch butterfly. I stared in awe at the brilliance of its jade green wings, edged with electric blue. The vibrancy of its flight and its magnificent size took my breath away. 

“How did you get out there?” I whispered, wondering how the creature ended up in the screened-in area. As I continued to stare, the butterfly began to do something peculiar. I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing; it was as if it was quivering and contorting and shining. All at once, the scene before me was too intense to look at. My hand hovering protectively over my face, I blinked a couple times until the view felt calm again, and I deemed it safe to reopen my eyes. I gasped at the vision ahead of me. 

There in the place of the butterfly stood a small woman, who I recognized but had a face from so long ago, smiling at me. Her once pallid skin was now ivory, with the hint of a honey-hued tan. Her short hair, formerly silver, glistened now as a golden blond crown. But her eyes were the very same: green with blue rings and twinkling as she looked at me. 

“Mom?!” I barely whispered as I choked back a sob. 

“Hello, my beautiful daughter,” she declared playfully but her demeanor changed on perceiving my woeful face. “Oh, honey, what is it?” she said gently, concern heard in that same sweet husky voice I remember. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes as I looked upon her transparent figure. At long last, the tears flowed while I struggled to keep my eyes opened, not wanting to blink, afraid that she would leave my sight. I didn’t know if I was dreaming or if I was seeing a ghost, but I didn’t care. There was so much I wanted to say but only one thing came into my mind. 

“Mom,” I expressed tearfully. “I’m so sorry for everything you went through.” 

“Oh, honey. It’s okay.” Mom smiled gently as she tilted her head to gaze tenderly at me. “Everything is wonderful. I no longer have aches and pains. My dementia is a thing of the past. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” 

I cried as I continued to look at her beautiful apparitional face, whispering, “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, my baby. And I’m so proud of you. Cry your tears for me. Grieve for me. But don’t stop living. We will meet again. I love you.” 

With that, she put her fingers to her lips, and blew me a kiss, just as she used to. 

“Mom, I love you!” I cried as I blew her a kiss back. Then I planted my hands on the glass in longing and sobbed as I watched her disappear before my eyes. 

Thereafter, I remember emerging from a deep sleep the following morning in my bed. Wrapped in the strong muscular arms of my beloved, I felt my tear-stained face and swollen eyes, relief that I had finally began releasing my suppressed pain. Although sadness still filled my heart, I felt an odd sense of tranquility. 

Unsure to this day of whether the divine vision was a dream or an otherworldly visitor, it does not matter, for my spirit now moves toward peace thanks to her.