Page 47 of The Next Person You Meet in Heaven
“Because we embrace our scars more than our healing,” Lorraine said. “We can recall the exact day we got hurt, but who remembers the day the wound was gone?
“From the moment you woke up in that hospital, I was different with you, and you were different with me. You were sullen. You were mad. You fought with me constantly. You hated my restrictions. But that wasn’t the real reason for your anger, was it?”
Lorraine reached down and clutched Annie’s fingers.
“Can you break that last secret? Can you say the real reason for your resentment since Ruby Pier?”
Annie choked up. Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Because you weren’t there to save me.”
Lorraine closed her eyes. “That’s right. Can you forgive me for that?”
“Mom.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to hear me say it.”
“No, I don’t,” Lorraine said, softly. “But you do.”
Annie began to cry again, tears of release, blessed release, the expulsion of secrets bottled up for years. She realized the sacrifices Lorraine had made before and after that day at Ruby Pier, ending her marriage, giving up her home, forsaking her friends, her history, her desires, making Annie her only priority. She thought about her mother’s small funeral, and how much of Lorraine’s life had been surrendered to protect Annie’s.
“Yes, yes, I forgive you, Mom. Of course I forgive you. I didn’t know. I love you.”
Lorraine placed her hands together.
“Grace?”
“Grace.”
“That,” Lorraine said, smiling, “is what I was here to teach you.”
***
With that, Lorraine lifted off the ground and hovered above Annie, just for a moment. Then, with a final touch of her daughter’s chin, she swelled back into the sky, until her face commanded the firmament once more.
“It’s time to go, angel.”
“No! Mom!”
“You need to make your peace.”
“But we made our peace!”
“There’s someone else.”
Before Annie could respond, the river rushed and heavy rains began to fall. Annie was blown sideways, all but blinded by the downpour. She felt a sudden bump on her hip. A large wooden barrel was nudging against her. She tilted its top and pulled herself safely inside. The walls were stained with a brown substance, and there were pillows all around for cushioning, old pillows that Annie guessed were from the time her namesake made her famous passage. Annie jostled to a sitting position, feeling the river rumbling beneath her.
Then, with a jerk, the barrel surged ahead.
She heard the storm and water crashing against rocks,louder by the second, turning ominous, thunderous. She felt something she had yet to feel in heaven: pure fear. The barrel shot over a massive waterfall, out into a moment of such thick, violent noise, it was as if God’s own voice were howling. In that rush, with nothing beneath her, Annie experienced the utter abandon of a free fall. She was helpless, beyond all control.
As she pushed against the walls, she looked up through a spray of white water and saw her mother’s face gazing down, whispering a single word.
“Courage.”
SUNDAY,2:14P.M.
