The Lamp

My parents both died 3 years ago, and only 4 months apart.  I had been the closest to them of all my siblings.  My father had cancer, and had lived with it for 6 years.  He was tired of being sick, and we knew that he would eventually pass away from the disease, since the kind he had was incurable, but treatable.  So, when dad died, he was tired, and ready to go, and died so peacefully with all of us around him.  I missed him so much, but I knew by the look on his face when he died that he was now in a much better place.  My mother, however, was diagnosed with the same cancer the day my dad was buried.  It was a shock, and she was devastated, not only by losing her husband of 57 years, but by that fact that she would have to leave my children and not see them grow up.  She was not ready to die, and she looked into my eyes as she died like she was trying to tell me she wasnít ready to go.  I was very unsettled.  The months passed, and I mourned terribly for both of them.  However, I usually thought about my dad more, because when I would think of my mom, it made me upset, she wasnít ready!  I prayed and prayed for a sign that she was OK, and that she knew I could be OK.

Night before last, I was asleep in my bed.  My 5 year old son had climbed in bed with us.  We have a lamp by my bed that is old, and wonít turn on easily.  I was awaken suddenly by a bright light, when I sat up, that old lamp was on, and shining so bright it was blinding.  I reached over and shut it off so as not to wake my son.  I layed back down puzzled, and looked at my alarm clock, it was 3:38 am.  Then I realized the date was January 21.  The exact date and time of my motherís death. Three years ago.  I suddenly felt like my chest was full, and my heart was going to burst right out.  I realized my mother had come and let me know she was OK, and that I should be too.  I will never ever forget that feeling, or forget the brightness of that light.

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