These Things Were True

by Mary Ann Endre
(Sun City West, AZ, USA)

When my mother died, I took it very hard. She died on March 21,1990. A month later, around my brother's birthday, I did a load of laundry. I remember pulling lint out of the dryer, and after I folded laundry and did a few other things, I went to bed. My husband, who was downstairs watching TV, knew how terrible I had been feeling. I went to my mother's grave every Sunday and cried my eyes out. I brought flowers, and said prayers for her soul

This particular night, I was so upset I just wanted to sleep and forget. Later on, as I drifted off, I heard someone talking to me. I thought it was my husband. It was a pep talk, like "You must go on with your life. I know you're feeling bad, but life goes on. You have a life to live, and someday you'll realize I am with you all the time."

I thought I saw a sort of blue-white silhouette, which I attributed to my husband standing by the window where the moonlight cascaded in. I wasn't afraid, but the pep talk did not help. I continued to feel terrible.

When I asked my husband later if he had been talking to me during the night, he said he wasn't. I never did find out for certain what it was.

A few months or so later, I got a phone call. The caller was a woman, and she said very slowly and deliberately, "I am thinking of you." I said, "Who is this?" and then I heard nothing but a dial tone.

I think my mother was trying to console me.