Today an Angel was born
in hope transformed
from woman and daughter
to memories
Hollow arms, empty
crave for her warmth
they stretch, defeated
in search of her presence
Patches of laughter
echo through silence
in light and shadow
her energy is captured
Forever young
Forever loved
Forever
Angel
—
For Nancy and Paul, who lost their daughter Heather.
She is now reunited with her brother Declan.
Much love,
Marion
Relax, and breathe, Ailsa says. What a splendid advice. She managed to take my mind off a student I had to deal with this very evening through phone and e-mail. And I got worked up pretty bad. So thank you very much, dear, for ‘forcing’ me into the relaxing work of finding relaxing photos.
Here’s what I came up with:
for a larger image, please click the photos
A herd of elephant seals, taking it easy in the sun
The famous barber of Seligman, Angel Delgadillo, of Route 66. He makes his clients relax and surrender to his excellent shaving care.
Have a relaxing weekend!
–
< < the button will lead you to more Relaxing photos at Ailsa’s website Where’s my backpack?
BY THE HAND OF AN ANGEL
The coffin was painted blue, decorated with flowers, little stars and winged beings in bright hues. The original exterior – boring white – was dressed in the colors of life, which was a good thing because the person in the casket was not boring either. The woman who rested peacefully within had been overflowing with action, cheerfulness, determination and perseverance. Even from the other side, her optimism broke through the sadness of those present, showering them in sunny African music. Her three beloved granddaughters were sitting on the bench right next to her, their long golden hair united in braided accents, with their mothers protective at their side.
It was quiet. A subdued silence that waited breathlessly. The spell was broken by the sympathetic voice of the minister, who led through the woman’s life. A life with good and bad times, but always lived by one motto: all will be well! Slowly the voices of the choir faded away, voices she had been part of. Now there was a void only she had been able to fill, her voice a tone that stood out by absence.
The sermon was almost at its end and the moment of parting finally came closer – too close, unrelenting and grim. Love nor desire could stop time. Relatives and friends walked towards the blue coffin to pay their last respect, their sadness etching deep, by tears intersected lines. When the last walked out the door, the family looked at each other, desperate with grief. Last weeks’ haze was suddenly wiped away by reality, a gruesome and uninvited guest. Was this really the end? Their Mom was lying there, Granny! They stood around the casket and held each others hands, quiet, waiting, not able to let go.
Then an almost imperceptible vibration, and with a soft rustle of wings the silence came to life. A slight shudder ran through them. Was it their imagination? But no, they all heard it, felt it! Right in front of them the light changed into a new shape, painting a woman who shone in the silver glow. Light enveloped her now frail form with a hint of wings. Her radiant smile bathed her girls in peacefulness for the last time and in her own resolute way she took the hand that was offered her from within the light. The woman – their mother and grandmother – was led away by the hand of an Angel. Angels in whom she had always firmly believed. From afar one last echo in her unique timbre.
Remember to live your life well!
Written for my dear friend Nancy, who lost her mother last week.
–
< Click the button for more Six Word Saturdays.
My entry in the 6WSC:
~ FOUND: FEATHER LIGHT PIECE OF ANGEL ~
~ click the photo for a larger image ~
–
Join the challenge for Six Word Stories!
With her nose pressed against the window, so close to the glass that she almost couldn’t see through her own breath, the girl looked outside. It was a bit misty. Whiffs of clouds passed by and submerged the world in a haze of white light.
When will they come, Grandma?
The woman sighed, every day the same old question. She went over to her grandchild and petted her curls. Then she said softly:
I don’t know, darling.
The girl stayed near the window – like a shadow – and waited. If she concentrated and watched real closely, she saw her little brother. Sam was a stalwart knight today, his stick a dangerous sword. He ran after his friend, waving the stick weapon, when suddenly the other boy turned. They fought bravely, laughing, with red cheeks from their exertions.
Come on over, I want to play too!
She banged on the window.
Why don’t you play with the others? Hide-and-seek, or tag, you love to do that.
Not today, Granny, I’d rather stay here.
The child sat down again, but her gaze was outward bound, longingly. Her hand prints were already fading and the glass resumed its transparent appearance. With her white skin and blond hair, she looked like a young princess. Gray eyes that were far too wise for her age. Resignation had changed her face, enlightened every now and then by a fit of impatience. Like now.
Why doesn’t Mommy want to spend time with me, Grandma?
The woman turned, alarmed, and hastily went back to the window. She took the girl’s unhappy little face in her wrinkled hands and gazed deeply into her eyes.
No, child, don’t you ever think that. Your Mama loves you dearly and longs to be with you. Always, every minute. But it just can’t be, sweetheart, it’s too soon.
And why does Dad always have to work? It just isn’t fair! Why can’t they visit us sometimes?
Silent, the old lady kissed her grandchild on her brow. How often had they had this conversation? Through the window, she saw her daughter calling Sam back into the house. It was time for supper.
She took the delicate small hands in her own and held them tightly.
Sweetie, please look at me. You know why, don’t you, darling? You know they don’t have wings yet, like us…
Figments of a DuTchess 
