I’d brushed my teeth, checked my alarm clock, even rearranged my pillows—but I still couldn’t sleep. I won’t be comfortable until I feel settled about Mom, I thought. She’d died a week ago, but I was still so sad.
If only she could send me a sign or something, I thought as I tossed and turned in bed. Just a little sign, letting me know she’s okay.
My mother’s last few years had been difficult. Heart disease made her weak and frail. Mom was an organized, no-nonsense woman, who raised five kids and found great joy in her five grandkids.
She’d stayed active with lots of friends and hobbies, and loved the charity work she did for the Lithuanian National Foundation. As her health deteriorated she had to give it all up. She’d had such a rough time those few years before she passed. All I wanted was to know that now she was happy in heaven.
I glanced at the clock: way too late! My husband was sound asleep beside me. It was time I got some rest too. I turned off my thoughts and closed my eyes.
The sound of the alarm clock usually made me grumpy, but the next morning when I heard the ring tone I smiled. I’d been dreaming one of those dreams that are almost more real than reality itself.
Mom and I were in the car. I was driving her to a meeting at the Lithuanian National Foundation. She exuded a sense of expectation, of joy. She sat upright in the passenger seat, her cheeks full of color and life. I knew she didn’t want to be late. To her, this was her most important work.
We pulled into the parking lot right on time. As Mom climbed out of the car I saw her dad, who had died 15 years earlier. My grandfather was waiting near the building where Mom went for her meetings.
Mom turned back toward me and waved. She looked happier and healthier than I’d seen her in years. Then she went to meet her father.
And I had my sign.
