Authors Note:  This is based on true facts surrounding the death of my Grandmother.  She passed away in 1973.  She may have left this mortal world, but is forever with me, in spirit, hope and most definitely in love.  Thank you for reading  ❤

 

1961. I was not even a year old when this photo was taken. She was always this beautiful in my eyes….

 

It feels like it was only yesterday. The sky was clear, the moon full but dull. There was no brightness surrounding it, as there was only gloom within my heart. You had passed earlier that day, a piece of me taken with you. The woman who was raising me to be strong, caring, loving, was now gone. I was 12, and just beginning to understand the meaning of death. I didn’t understand yours. You weren’t here long enough to teach me the whys. Only that it was part of life. I remember the tears, flowing from every person who walked in our door that night. And yet, I still didn’t understand why you were taken, all these others who so desperately needed you, left alone. You remained quiet in your final days, a silence broken only by the hope of seeing your eyes open again, of holding your hand, telling you things would be fine. But they weren’t, then came the call, in early morning. You had passed. I didn’t get to say goodbye. And so I sat, on the sofa, staring out the glass door. A glimpse of light caught my eye, and I slowly turned my head to look up. Shining down from the moon, beams of light in the shape of a cross, the bottom reaching our back lawn. It was then I knew you were safely home and in God’s loving hands. It was your way of telling me you were okay and that I, too, would be able to carry on, living the life you taught me so well.

 

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