i’m still here

She kneels down next to me and presses her palm to the side of my face.

The softness of her.

Her hands always so warm.

She leans close, pressing her forehead to my cheek.

And we stay that way for a minute or two.

I’m still here, she says.

All you have to do is ask.

I know it’s hard right now. But just keep walking on.

I see you breaking cycles I couldn’t see. Changing things I couldn’t touch.

Pick your battles with everyone – including yourself.

Trust that what you’ve done is true.

Know that the whole point of life is to be part of the mess.

And believe that I’m still here with you.

We live in a world of facts and data and we expect things to make sense.

But sometimes they don’t, she says.

We get so conditioned to trust only what we think we know.

Knowing and believing are two very different things.

Trust what you believe.

Accepting a universe we don’t understand creates limitless potential.

And it lets your mother come back to you.

To tell you that she couldn’t fully understand you on the earthly plane.

(It was like you were a calculus problem and I was only in Grade 9 math back then, she says.)

Forgive me, for what I couldn’t do when I was here, she adds.

But remember what ran between us.

It will never be severed.

That loving connection will always be there for you.

They don’t teach you about the continuity of consciousness in school.

You don’t study the nature of the mind – of who and what you really are.

That you are a soul whose consciousness is infinite.

That there is no death, only a change of worlds, she says.

That maybe, for a brief time, we’re all just angels temporarily hiding as humans.

She tells me that it’s naïve to believe that this world is what it seems.

I’m still here, she says.

Beyond the infinite expanse where space kisses time.

Right next to you.

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