When I learned the name of the buyer of my mother’s house, I knew everything would be okay, because Bianca (Kitty) was a very dear friend of mine. On closing day, while the human Bianca signed papers in New Orleans, I drove to Queen of Heaven Cemetery and found John’s grave. I cleaned the headstone with my brother’s name and lit a white candle. Then I set the small vial of Mom’s ashes in front. Wept. “I love you both so much!”
They reminded me that they’re not dead.
“But I miss your bodies!” I could not stop weeping. They urged me to break out the bubbles. So after I sprinkled Mom’s ashes over the grave, I waved the yellow bubble wand and sang, “I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.” We all laughed.
They are One now, bones and ashes and Holy Spirit. We are all Holy Spirit, but we forget, or at least I do.
After an hour or so, all the tears were expressed and I was able to leave. As I was rolling away, I felt them strongly in the car. “You’re coming with me!” I laughed, relieved.
“Yep,” they replied. I’m not alone.
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