Mary squeezed her daughter’s. “You know I’ll always be watching over you.”
Margaret’s tears flowed down her cheeks as she smiled and nodded. Unable to summon any words, she squeezed her mother’s hand in return. Then she let her go.
Mary was at peace when she closed her eyes for the last time. When she saw the light, she thought she had woken again, but then she realized the light was drifting closer to her – or was she drifting closer to the light? It was hard to tell. There didn’t seem to be an up or down, just Mary and the light. She didn’t try to fight it – wasn’t sure she could have fought it if she tried – knowing she was going to her God and waiting patiently for the moment she had waited for all her life.
But when she finally reached the light (or the light reached her, she still wasn’t sure which) she found something different altogether. There was no gate. No throne. No harps. None of the things she had been told to expect. Instead, she found what looked to be some kind of sorting apparatus surrounded by … were those mail chutes?MORE +