Friday, October 20, 2006

Artwork Explained

She brings artwork to me, a watercolor swirl of twisting lines in blues and purples, very chaotic looking. Of course I hold it upside-down, and with a disgusted sigh, she corrects the error.

"These are all the souls helping each other so they can become human again."

Where did the souls come from? People that died?

"Yes, and now they have to help each other before they go back to being human, or, or, animals, or, you know."

And is this Earth? this green spot here?

"It's all Earth. This is just the spot where the souls are."

What's this person here?

"This person is an angel, trying to help the souls who died to become something again."

But the angel's standing on the Earth.


Ah. Angels standing on the Earth is unremarkable. Of course. Anyone could know that.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Strange Visit

This morning, he got the call. He did not want to come with us to Philadelphia, because he felt he would be poor company. I convinced him that it was not his responsibility to protect us from his less pleasant moods, and coaxed him into being with his family instead of moping at home. No one wanted that for him.

After we tell the news to the children, it is the main topic of conversation in the car. We fall into silence.

Into that silence, I am bespoken. I hear, argue, and then start to cry.

"What? Honey, don' looks like you need these tissues more than I do!"

He... he wants you to have his clothes.


He says he hopes nobody's mad at him, but he just couldn't do it anymore. It feels like he's sorry. And he's showing me this drawer of folded shirts. They're really soft. He wants you to have his clothes.

He was very insistant that I should tell the family that he was sorry, and hoped nobody would be mad at him. I told him that I didn't think they were ready. He sort of shrugged and I heard 'you know best' in my mind.

Well, I don't know if I know best, but I don't think my in-laws were ready, on the day of his death, to hear a message from him, especially not from me.

I know I wasn't ready.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Good Advice

"The angels say that Papa needs at least to call his father to tell him he loves him and that he's sorry to see him go. Let him know that even though he left when he was a baby, that he still loves him a lot."

Personal pronoun confusion aside, it's a sweetness in verbal format. Her father's response?

"I guess I do need to talk to him. Because of him, I have a child who can say a thing like that."

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Today's Message

"This is a message from the angels. The angels say that if you are nice to the whole world, you will become more nicer, and when you die, you will have more and more lifes."

I will ask her to explain later. Or maybe I don't have to.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Heart Strings

She tells me about the strings she sees.

Strings, baby?

"Yes, strings that tie families together, and people who love each other. It's what keeps you close to your family, because it goes from your heart to their hearts. You mustn't break the strings, because they keep people together."

I think of Orson Scott Card's 'philotes' from Xenocide and know that the thing she sees are no less real for the fact that I cannot see them.

Friday, May 27, 2005

Resident Cherubim

"Do you need an angel, Mama?"

I'm not sure, baby. Do I look like I need an angel?

She nods. "You look tired." She tilts her head: "What?" and listens. She turns back to me.

"The angels say you need a nap.

Do they. Well, I guess I should have one, then.

Later, as I kiss Garrett goodnight, "Don't stay up too late watching teevee, Mama. You have a big day tomorrow."

Angels all over my house.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Three Conversations

Saturday, 19 March, 2005


"Mama, try talking to the angels."

Any one in particular? What should I say?

Waving of a small, imperious hand.

"Whatever you like."

I close my eyes and concetrate. I've been tense and snippy, so when I sense Presence, I mentally ask for patience, strength, energy. The usual. I ask for a good mood. I ask if there is any message for Alaina. (Tell her thank you.) For what? (She'll know.)

They say to tell you thank you.

"For what?"

I shrug.

They said you'd know.

She frowns.

Why don't you ask them?

She closes here eyes, concentrates.

"Oh," she says, laughing a little. "They said they were thanking me for teaching you to talk to them."