Hardly Curious

The light streaming in  through the window is old and illuminates the dust in the air.  It seems a lazy beam, hardly warming the cat curled up on the carpet, but it also falls across the foot of my coffin and I can see the dust helps to light my way; sparkling like the stars at night.

Everyone’s thoughts are so loud.  If they only knew.  As I ascend the voices begin to fade, though not hers.  Grief stricken she clinches perhaps too tightly to her handkerchief and fights to hold back the tears, yet her focus is strong and I can hear her every thought. 

In life I would have had an immediate urge to respond, to reply – saying, “Hey, I’m right here.  It’s OK.”  But I feel no urge, no sense of urgency.  There is nothing but calm.  I seem to have an understanding that she will be alright.  I somehow have awareness that her health is strong and she will make the adjustment with the aid of her friends.

Momentarily the cat glances up at me.  I give him a wink but he puts his head down and goes back to sleep.