The Liminal Space She Finds Herself In

She took out the pill. The one that she had been holding onto for the past eight months. Somehow, she had managed to keep it safe, dry and relatively clean, this whole time. The blister pack was smushed, the silver backing was fraying but it still held. It helped that she had it in a small green pill bottle that she hid in her filthy, hole-y brassiere.

She had a bottle of water, it was tap water, but it really didn’t matter, did it? And, she had a small bottle of vodka.

She was trying to figure out which would be the better chaser.

A loud braying truck horn sounded off to her left. She barely lifted her gaze. A rat scuttled by. She kicked at it as it tried to lunge for her moldy bread.

She was leaning against a red brick wall next to a vent that was releasing the most heavenly steam. Her spot tonight, and for the past 12 nights, was a warm one on this chilly January evening.

Her eyes were swollen, as were her lips, both sets.

At 37 ½, life was interminably long and tiring. And nothing, nothing ever worked out.

Charlie shuffled by and flopped down next to her, reached out a hand to paw her and she batted it away.

“Whaa? What’d I do?”

She ignored him. He didn’t have any food or else he would have handed it to her first. So, why?

He grunted, heaved himself up and shuffled back away.

She wondered if she should go to the St. Joe’s emergency room. There she’d be warm for a few hours, maybe even a week, if they kept her. A chance to deflea and think straight for a bit.

But it always ended the same exact way. She was given promises of housing. Of people who cared about her and her well-being…

Where the hell were they right now?!

The pill and the booze were calling her.

She heard a sound that sent chills through her. The rubber coated wheels bounced over the cracks in the cement and the metal grid groaned as it was pushed forward.

“God, forgive me,” she freed the pill and chased it with both beverages and laid back to wait for the effects.

She was already feeling light and floaty when she heard from a distance that the shopping cart had stopped nearby. By the time he got close enough, she had already slipped far from his punishing touch.

___

The warm bright glow came from everywhere, and nowhere.

It seeped through her eyelids and warmed up her brain.

She opened her eyes.

All she saw was dazzling clearness all about her.

She moved, yet felt no aches, no pains – anywhere.

She looked down and saw a filmy gossamer, something, covering her arm. She looked down and the same fabric was covering her legs and whole body. It appeared to be some sort of dress.

A movement made her turn to look.

He was there. Perched on a cloud. He looked the way he’s always depicted, dark hair, longish, kind gentle eyes, halo (sort of), but now he was wearing a Yankees t-shirt and jeans.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Opened them. The image was the same.

“What in the rot-hell is going on here? You’re a Yankees fan?”

He smiled, and the shirt changed to a Cleveland Guardians one.

She snorted and said. “So, you got jokes, huh.”

“Your father loved them.”

“That was a very long time ago.”

“Verily, verily, I say unto you…”

She glared at him, stood up and waggled her finger at Him, “You don’t get the right to just talk to me now and say, everything’s alright! What the heck was that down there?! I was in bad shape and begged you to come and help me! You didn’t! Why?”

He didn’t look perturbed in the slightest.

In her mind, memories began to flow in. Of her with a nurse, who invited her to come home with her; that was about a year ago, and she had said no. Another memory flitted by, of her, fresh out of college, was offered a job in her field, at an intern’s low rate but was guaranteed a substantial increase at the end of a year. She had said no and chose an admin job instead since it paid twice the intern salary but a third of the year’s end salary. And another, and another, and another memory of flitted in, by and through, of her choosing. Of her choosing quite terribly badly.

She raged at him. “I didn’t only make bad decisions!”

“You’re right.”

And that was all He said.

She felt it. It was inside of her. She knew it now.It was that one big memory. The one she pushed away. Her dad was lying there on the bed. He was frail. He was wracked with coughs, blood coming up sometimes, the sores all over.

“Francie, just one more hit. One more, that’s it. That’s all I’ll need. That’ll be my last one – promise!”

Mom was always working and since he was so bad off, she had to stay back from school to help him. She was 12 at the time.

“Not that one. Please, not. That. One.”

“It’s the key.”

The horrible clear truth was evident within her as soon as He uttered the words.

She watched him take his last breath soon after she refused to give in to his demands. And that was her first hit. She had prepared it for him, in secret, so many times. She knew what to do with her eyes closed by the time she was 9 ½. Mother hadn’t known.

She felt hot fat tears roll down her face.

She felt Him waiting quietly, patiently.

“What am I supposed to say? I was a KID! How could I have known any better? He was my dad! Wasn’t I supposed to do what he said?”

He just watched her, those soft doe-brown eyes, so kind, so warm, so full of love, so full of forgiveness, and longing for her to see the light. She could see with full clarity what he wanted, needed her to say.

She continued to rail, “Wasn’t she supposed to know?! Wasn’t she supposed to step in and stop me from cooking it on a spoon?! I could have burned myself, him, and the house down and she wouldn’t have been the wiser! She was just as much to blame as him!!”

His doe-brown eyes were somehow more filled with love than before.

The dark cold places within her began to curl in on themselves and wither.

She began rocking to and fro. The white gossamer fabric caressed her limbs and she refused to look into His eyes anymore. She must be on some kind of bad trip. This couldn’t be Him. This couldn’t be that place. Nothing was right about any of it. It wasn’t like it was supposed to be…

“And what is it supposed to be?”

She glared at him.

“Stay outta my head!”

“Impossible. We are all one,” He crossed his leg, laced his fingers and sat there still and content.

She was in torment just being in His presence.

“Would you wish to be with the Other?”

She chilled immediately. She knew that was not what she wanted.

“Okay, then. I’m waiting.”

He was still. And everything else around Him seemed to stop pulsing and all things that Be in that realm were as still as He.

It was as if he could sit focused, intent on transmitting love, for all eternity.

There was nothing still within her. Everything roiled and plunged. She felt her heart racing madly.

Through it all, He waited.

The image of Him waiting for her to turn her head as a child, away from her father’s need, and towards this same radiation of focused love. She realized she felt it back then but had no frame of reference.

“That’s not true.”

She bowed her head.

She recalled being a newborn and the unfettered unconditional love showered on her was palpable. She choked up at the intense feelings of love from both of her parents, her family members and their friends.

She knew it then. This was her frame of reference, and she denied it.

In the liminal moments of choice, she saw Him and His love, and then she saw the other choice options.

She sobbed.

“It’s not fair! It’s so clear here! It’s not like this down there!! There are so many things demanding your attention. Everything looks and smells so good. People, seem nice and like they won’t hurt you…”

She sank down to her knees and sobbed for all of her choices, the good ones, and the ones that brought her to this moment.

Three eternities passed.

Her tears were subsiding, and He was still there giving her focused beautiful unconditional love.

He was still there. HE was still waiting.

“Is this what omnipresence is? You’re always here with me? And, with everybody else too?”

His mouth didn’t move but He smiled broadly.

She was almost blinded by the sight of it.

“If I don’t…the Other?”

His imperceptible nod was so heavy.

“You have choice here as well.”

With that, His Lightness returned.

She wondered what the Great Hekate would say in His presence.

“Why don’t you ask Enodia?”

She blinked and before her the Great Lady appeared. She held two lanterns in each hand.

“Daughter.”

She looked up into the goddess’ eyes and fell into them.

When she emerged, once more in the world of brightness. Enodia was gone.

She remembered nothing, and everything from her meditation with the Titan. Love was there. Strength. Choice. Sensuality as a weapon. Truth. And that thing, the common thing…the Light, clarity.

He was still there with his leg still crossed; hands still laced.

“I don’t understand. Isn’t she – evil – to you?”

He smiled, and said, “There’s a place for everyone, and everything in this Universe. We are all One, as I told you before. We each have a part to play in the lives of all creatures. Some have smaller, or larger parts, but all have importance.”

She felt the teaching welling inside of her. She felt the unifiedness of All That Is, by all the many names They go by. She felt all of them in her, helping her, nudging her, guiding her, helping her. How she wished she could remember this when she went back down there!

The beatific smile radiated and nearly blinded her, and He said, “Since you asked, you can and will.”

She felt a small pop near her heart and a floodgate of feelings rushed forth. These warm living emotions enveloped her and slipped just within her aura and stayed there, pulsing strongly.

Her heart grew larger.

She smiled broadly, and bowed her head, then began, “Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned…”