Welcome Home, Anna!

The clouds support me, my footsteps making delicate impressions that are soon erased; how water pours into an indent made by a skipping rock.

My surroundings are milky in color, the landscape opaque and unclear. I reach out, running my hands through the billowing clouds. Their silky texture is soft between the webbing of my fingers and the moisture transfers onto me. 

The air is lighter and free of saturation, a foreign identity to my body. My nostrils take the air, and my lungs expand to full capacity. I close my eyes, feeling the moisture of the soft clouds brushing my flesh. Pushing the air through parted lips now, I allow my shoulders to fall. 

In front of me, a staircase derived from gold radiates its rich shade of bronze onto the canvas background. Raising my chin, an ending to the stairs is seemingly undefinable, but a sense of curiosity accompanies me. I lift my feet from the clouds now, placing my foot onto the smooth step. 

The clouds follow beside me, acting as a guard rail to a child’s top bunk. Their swirling trails of white cover the earlier risers, the previous steps being washed away by a haze. 

I am Alice in a land of wonders.

Peering into the cotton-like abyss, the thin sheets of white act as ivy to a tree. The ground covering pulls away, revealing an opening through the swirling white clouds. A blue pickup, my silver Toyota, both folded onto themselves at the front; smoke fleeing from the wreckage. My Toyota propped against the bent guard rail, almost unrecognizable - only identifiable by the owner. Red and blue lights flash and blaring sirens rip through my ears.

Am I in there? 

Mom. She’s dressed in her typical business attire, running to the guard rail, her high heels clacking against the textured asphalt. She kneels beside my body, violently thrashing like a bear protecting her injured cubs. She holds my body, kissing my forehead, allowing herself to become dirtied. The tears stream from her eyes, the mascara streaking her delicate features. 

“Mom! Mom!” I shout to her, my voice lost on the clouds. I try again, my throat dry and tingling, growing hoarse. I turn, suddenly determined to find an escape route. I have to let her know I’m here. I place my foot on the previous golden step, my feet disappearing into the ground covering. A high-pitched Yip!finds my eardrum, drowning out the noise from below.

“Luna!” I exclaim as the small dog races down the stairs, mimicking a wild rabbit. Somehow, a smile finds the small dogs expression. I run my hands through her black fur, forgetting how much I missed the feeling of her long, fine hair between my fingers. I hold her head in my hands, her papery ears blessing the skin of my thumbs. I kiss between her eyes.  

Luna yips again, starting up the stairs. Her stubby tail wags, sweeping the air and casting a shadow on the golden steps. She leaves long black hairs that once burrowed into my clothing. Her playfulness begs me to follow her. 

The sirens from below ask me to turn, when Luna butts her head against my leg, providing a distraction. “How did I get here, Luna?” I ask, posing the question rhetorically, but feeling lighter after the thought escapes.  

Suddenly, the hole in the clouds fill, the delicate tufts of white playfully tumble over each other like tumble weeds during a drought. The clouds still, and the wreckage is covered by the familiar opacity that inhabits the land. My heart suddenly becomes heavy, the scene flooding from my eyes. Luna barks again, upset with my lack of attentiveness. 

I continue up the stairs. 

At once, the white fog clears, and the shimmering bronze color illuminates the blue sky like a beacon, signaling my destination. Someone stands, awaiting my arrival; they knew I’d be here. 

“Anna!” a feminine voice shouts. That familiar voice blesses me, my heart warmed by the sound. My grandma stands at the top of the stairs, waiving her hands above her head, wearing an excited expression.

The years that she once wore have fallen away, and her natural beauty resurfaces. Her skin is an even tone, a beautiful tan color kissing her face. She looks like her wedding photos, the ones that sat on her mantle when we were kids. She’s even more gorgeous than the person behind the wooden frame. 

Her brunette hair is no longer gray and brittle, and her natural waves lay over her shoulders. Her gorgeous eyes smile more than her lips as she greets me from the platform ahead. 

“Grandma!” I say with a slightly higher tone, making my elated expression sound like uncertainty. Luna jumps up the stairs, skipping a few at a time, jumping into her arms with familiarity. No longer hesitating, I race up the stairs to embrace my grandmother, a massive smile fixed on my face.

The heavy golden gates behind her are open, the tops of the gate are formed into spheres of polished gold. “Welcome Home, Anna!” is fixed on the gates, with flowers arranged perfectly underneath. A ring of sunflowers borders the sign. I throw my arms open, allowing my grandma to embrace me as she did years before. Tears fall from my eyes, the same ones that fell in the hospital on that dreary Tuesday afternoon. 

“I can’t believe it!” she says to me, holding my shoulders with her hands an arm’s length away as if admiring a mural. “You’re so grown up now! You look just like your mother,” she says, the words quivering and tears making a film over her blue eyes.

“Grandma,” I say. “Where are we?”

“We’re in Heaven, Dear.” She says, as if the answer was obvious.  

“What?” I say, still disoriented. “Grandma, I can’t stay,” I say through a cracking voice, the tears trailing down my face again. “I can’t leave mom down there.”

“I know, hunny,” she says, reassuring both of us. “But, we all have our time. And this is yours,” she states, trying to hide the pain of her statement. 

She pulls herself together, her expression and emotions unmatched. I can tell she senses the panic on my face. She was the only one that could make me feel better, and she gives me the same familiar hug now. Tears pour from our eyes again, refusing control. 

“This was just your time,” she says with a fresh tear streaking her face. “Don’t cry, okay? Everyone is so excited to see you again!” 

Overwhelm acts as a roadblock, and my emotions control me: logical thought is abandoned. Luna continues to pant at my side, as her pink tongue slips from her mouth. Grandma wraps me in her warm embrace, acting as my safety blanket. My mind is full of questions, but I know this is where I belong. 

“Okay,” I say, trying to stop the salt streams. 

“Don’t push yourself, sweetie,” she says. “You don’t have to make sense of everything today. Give yourself some time to process. We have all the time in the world.”