As they hold the precious gift you left with them, they see you in her every movement, the tilt of her head, that smile that lights the whole room; they look into her eyes and see you looking back...innocent and curious. How will they answer the questions all children ask, because she surely will want to know about her mother. Will they be able to share the beauty of your being, how dearly loved you were, and the joy you brought to them? They'll explain that you're an angel in heaven, and you're always watching over them and her all the time. She'll look up at the sky at night, and wonder what you're doing, and try to listen for the soft, whispered beat of angel wings, and speak to you in the wonderfully innocent way that children do before the world bursts in.
The days spin slowly away.... they realize that time has moved relentlessly forward, and was it only that long ago that you left? Through a golden haze, they see you, and remember in the soft way that time gives them and they smile at the memories, and realize that one day, you'll be in each other's arms, never to be separated again, walking in joy and love and peace. And when they finally step across the bridge, they'll see you, and run to meet you, to hold you in their arms forever, joy spilling over much as their tears did on that day when the light left their world.As you walk across the bridge, don't look over your shoulder at what was, but ahead, at what is. You cannot change what has happened. As you hold God's hand, all pain is left behind, and tears cease. You know, now, that all things have a time and a season, and your time in the mortal body is over, and your spirit runs free upon the wind, never to be limited again. Those who mourn you will, eventually, join you and the circle will be complete. This you know as surely as if the words were spoken to you. Those that are left behind need time to realize the truth in this. Their days will be dark for a while; the sadness too much to bear. Everywhere they turn, they see and feel your presence, so tangible that if they just reached a little farther, they could almost touch you. Speaking your name brings immediate tears....Denise...a lovely name for a lovely and much loved child. "How could this happen?"they ask each other. "Why her?" Endless questions with no satisfying answers. They miss you, your laughter, the certain way you spoke, the little things you did that endeared you to them. They remember how you were as a baby, all those precious, adorable things that made them laugh now bring tears for what was, and is no more, the struggles as you grew to maturity will come back to them...they'll feel a twinge for being too strict on some occasions, even though it was "for your own good". "Perhaps", they'll think, "we should have been a little more lenient", and tears will slide down their cheeks, and the darkness will step in for a while. Gently, ever so gently, you whisper God's truth to them while they sleep, their souls heavy with loss. When they wake, they speak to each other cautiously, afraid of bringing more tears. They try to explain hearing your voice and seeing your face. Their souls have heard your message, and rejoice. Their minds and hearts will follow later; when the edges of their memories are not as sharp, and the pain is softened.
