My mom used to love all the TV psychics. My sister and I watched Sylvia Browne with her when we were small. Even as a kid, I was a skeptic. But it didn’t keep me from making a pact of after-death communication with my mom and sister.
We brainstormed for days about how we would communicate with each other if one of us died. Eventually we decided we’d use a special song—it was from a movie we all loved. It’s an old, weird song and, though I’m still a skeptic, I am listening for it everywhere I go but I haven’t heard it yet.
I want to hear from my mom. I want to talk with her and tell her the news. I got a new job. I want to start a business, I’m back in school. I need for her to know it all. To see her grand kids and how much they’ve grown. I’m desperate.
I just miss her as usual. I worry about all the things I had that remind me of her–a shirt, old photos, a letter she wrote to me. They’re all stuck in a chest in the attic of my house. Possibly ruined forever. And then there’s the lock of her hair that I lost. My sister cut the hair just after my mom died and we split it in two. We tied up each lock with a sliver of my baby blanket. I don’t remember what I did with my piece of her hair, but it’s gone and every time I remember I kick myself.
Last week I got myself a jay-oh-bee. A 9-5… well, technically a 12-5. Even though I’m excited about the job, I’ve been stressed out. It’s overwhelming. The first day back to work was rough–awkward, uncomfortable, I felt like I’d never learn everything that I’m expected to learn. And the second day was possibly harder… trying to get in the swing of being away from Simone. Feeling even more overwhelmed with new information.
On my drive home from work, “Blister in the Sun” came on the radio. It’s the song my mom said reminded her of me. I got home and as soon as I’d hung up my coat, Chris put a card in my hand.
I was emotionally fragile, so just the fact that he was giving me a nice card was enough to make me start sobbing. When I slid it out of the envelope, something fell onto the bed. First I read the card. In part, it said, “Sometimes we just need a reminder of how special we are. And sometimes luck and happy coincidences to keep us going…”
Then I looked down and saw it, the thing that had dropped out of the card. Chris had found it in his coat pocket earlier that day.