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MOURNING

Help From Beyond

By Margaret FloodPublished 3 years ago 5 min read
2

MOURNING

Help From Beyond

I arrived home from the hospital, still in a daze. I new my mother’s time with me was coming to an end but no matter how much I thought I was prepared for it, I wasn’t.

The following day, the reality of what was ahead of me started to sink in and funeral preparations were something I had never dealt with before. My mother’s death was the first close person I knew to have died. My father had died when I was only a baby and it had been just Mum and I ever since.

The hospital had given me a folder with a lot of information, none of which I had read yet. I opened it up while I tried to eat breakfast. Though food was the last thing I wanted, I knew I needed to keep strong to get through this.

I found a card for a funeral home in amongst the papers and realized they were close by, so I gave them a call. The lady who answered was very kind and said she could come to the house the following day to discuss arrangements. When the lady arrived, she started going through all the preliminary information. I don’t know at what point we finally came to discussing the costs. I mean, really, this should have been something I asked about at the beginning seeing that neither I nor my mother had ever had any spare savings. We had always struggled from week to week. A bit put aside for an odd bill here or there was about it!

When the many options were put to me, I was overwhelmed. The costs were staggering. I explained my position and even cutting things down to the bare essentials, I knew I was in trouble. I told her I would need to get back to her after approaching a bank for a loan. I honestly didn’t like my chances as I was only in part time work.

I missed Mum so much, I felt like I just needed to feel her around me. I went to her room and just laid on her bed and cried myself to sleep. I woke up in the dark and looked around, still groggy with sleep, eyes sore and nose blocked. There was a glow in the corner of the room that I couldn’t quite place. I turned on the bedside light and could see it had been a statue of the Virgin Mary, one of those old fashioned luminous ones, that mum had placed on top of her glory box.

I got up and turned the main light on and went to the box. I moved the statue and opened the lid. Inside were lots of Mum’s old photos. There were some of her and Dad and some of me with them both and lots of just the two of us over the years. I sat on the floor going through them all for hours. It made me feel at peace, like Mum was now with Dad, and they were both there looking over me.

I picked up a couple of big envelopes that looked like they had old bills and things in them but underneath these, I came across a little black book. I didn’t recognize the writing in the book but after reading several pages, I worked out it must have been my dad’s book. It was like a journal and he must have written in it when he was overseas in the army. The entries in the book were really sweet. He was saying how much he loved Mum and missed her so much. I was enjoying reading about his days though I could tell there were things he was obviously leaving out. I turned a page and there were a couple of foreign looking stamps in the fold of the book. I read what Dad had written and a small glimmer of hope started in my heart.

He wrote that he had purchased the stamps as a sort of investment for when he came home. He wrote that he had been told they were worth a few thousand dollars but he would need to check that out when he got back. I don’t know what happened. Maybe he found they weren’t worth anything or maybe he just forgot about them tucked away in this little black book. Anyway I decided I would look online for a place to take them to get valued.

I had a few hours the next day before my appointment with the bank so decided to go into town to the shop I had found to value the stamps. I knew it was a long shot but I was desperate.

When I arrived, it was only a tiny shop and smelt a bit musty. I showed the man behind the counter my stamps, half expecting to be laughed right out the door. So I was surprised when he invited me behind the counter to his desk where he asked me to sit down. He carefully laid the stamps on the desk, looked at me, and asked was I willing to sell them. Well I wasn’t sure about that. If they were only worth a few dollars, I might as well keep them. So I decided to just ask him what he would offer.

Well I’m glad I don’t play poker because I’m sure I don’t have a poker face. When he said he could offer me $20,000 my jaw hit the floor. He explained that if I wanted to wait, he could possibly get me a bit more but he could do that amount now. Everything he said after that was a bit of a blur to me.

I felt like I had Mum and Dad sitting on either side of me, I felt so happy.

Now I could proceed with Mum’s funeral and even have a bit left to pay some bills that were backing up and not have to stress for a while about money.

I rang and cancelled the appointment at the bank and instead went to the funeral home to organise everything before I went home. On the way, I couldn’t help thinking I had the luminous statue of the Virgin Mary to thank for leading me to the little black book and the stamps within its covers.

The thought that Dad was sitting there with Mum saying how he knew they would be a good investment, made me smile.

Margaret Flood

literature
2

About the Creator

Margaret Flood

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