My sister had left me then, but soon after her family had come to say goodbye, tears filled their eyes as they had wept and her daughter had fallen to her knees in shock. I had watched on, wishing I could help, but knowing they couldn’t see or hear me, and knowing I wasn’t the one they wanted anyway. They wanted her back. Once, the daughter came around to my crypt, just as my Mother does, and had reached out and touched the lettering. I had yearned to talk to her then. She seemed so sad that we had never met.
Mommy stopped in front of my crypt, my name spelled out and beautiful, but cold as the bronze it is made of. I ached to hold her and moved towards her, my small feet not touching the marble floor as I approached and reached out for her.
“Do not cry Mommy. I’m here. Your little Laura is here.” I said as she placed a small budding white rose in my vase. “Mommy, please hear me. I’m right here! I have never left. I’m still here. I know I was taken young. The boat the party was on, seized in a wave, tossing me overboard, out of your love and into the cold lake, who’s undertow took me from you and our family forever… But Mommy, it’s not forever. It’s just until you come here. Then we can be together and we can go to heaven. Mommy… ” I started to cry, unable to control what I felt, tears and memories. She stared at my name for longer than usual. Had she felt my presence or heard me? Did my words ring true in her ears?
My guardian angel is watching over me, I know. He had tried to convince me that this was useless, this waiting for her and living in the past, not moving on towards the white light or going on towards what heaven is and possibly my soul’s future. I tried to make him understand that it was because I love Mommy so, and I’ve never gone anywhere without her, so why should I start now. So, now he watches and waits, knowing that I am suffering pain where I should suffer no more, because I chose to stay here, and wait for her.
So, as I was crying, I could feel his eyes on me and I turned to look at where he might be; but he had decided to remain hidden. I turned back to Mommy and couldn’t help myself. I clutched onto her skirt, my little hands gripping the flowered fabric in my little fist as I looked up at her. I can imagine the warmth of her and the smell of her sweet perfume as she sweeps me up in her arms. I am so swept up in her, in her movements, in the feelings that I can feel and the longing coming from her, that I do not notice that I was not alone anymore.
“Little Laura, oh sweety… how I miss you,” Momma whispered as she touched the cold marble wall. I cry harder now, tears flowing down my cheeks. At least, I can imagine tears for her and I.