I always write something about my former mother-in-law on June 6th. I have a good reason.
Seventeen years ago, June 6th, she departed our collective existence into a spirit universe.
If you doubt me, simply stop and close your eyes and think about someone or a pet that you loved unconditionally.
Give yourself a second or two… wait for it… remember a fragrance?
I remember my grandfather Sewell always balled up his paper napkin; I do the same thing.
See? It’s like a conscious magic…
So, this morning on June 6th, I stopped, I closed my eyes, and I remembered her.
I remember her boisterous laugh. She had that classic, hoarse smoker’s laugh.
I remember getting her bemused gaze after I pulled a never-in-trouble son-in-law canard. Son-in-laws live by other rules that sons or daughters and of course, husbands may not venture.
I remember her hugging Murray, her obese Basset Hound that seemed unaware it was a canine and not a human child, as it did what a Basset Hound does. Yes, we all know this pet, don’t we?
But most of all, after all things, I remember she loved me.
If someone loves you, you can feel it.
I think that singular residue always remains for the picklocks of time to discover beyond the heavens.
The residue is always there, fixed at the intersection of time and space traveling at the speed of light. You don’t need to catch it because it’s always with you – forever and a day within all perceived and misunderstood dimensions.
I’ve shared her living image… it’s displayed quietly on one of my office shelves. It’s always within my eyesight.
On the back of this book mark with her elementary school teacher photo at the top, it asks:
How many books did you read?
My answer is, a bunch.
But, ask yourself a simple question, ever wonder about your influence on another human being?
Because of her influence on me, I’ve written 5 novels, countless short-stories and poems, and 2 feature length screenplays.
Maybe someday, the right set of eyeballs will read something I have written and I’ll be, as the saying, “discovered”.
I’ll be happy either way. I wrote these next words thinking about her and my grandparents.
“Know this, we’ll not be in those graves. We’ll be beside you. In fact, our spirits will be beside you always…”
In loving memory,
Robert C. Hall (aka Nathaniel Sewell) (Wink)