After my mother’s burial, we came together on this warm summer’s day to celebrate her life. The restaurant and terrace stood on the edge of a nature reserve, the same beauty spot my father proposed to my mother 63 years ago. Not long after everybody had arrived, my eldest son and his partner asked me to take a stroll, their dog needed a run and there was a dog-friendly trail close by. While we walked in the dappled shade, the couple told me that they were pregnant. I burst out in tears. One more emotion, albeit a very happy one, coursed through my being. It felt so bittersweet, and so poignant: saying fare well to my mother and on that same day hearing I was going to be a grandmother for the first time.
Eight months later my granddaughter was born. I felt elated – as every new grandparent will recognise – and that bittersweet feeling I felt on my mother’s burial day came back with force. I realised I so dearly wanted to tell my mother that I had become a grandmother. That night I fell asleep with a yearning heart, missing my mother, and I had a wonderful dream:
I stood in front of an immensely high gothic arched window. The glass was clear and there were no curtains, all the colours used in this scene were soft white and grey. I looked out of the window and I saw a beautiful park landscape, a rolling hill, green grass, majestic trees and a blue summer sky. A small figure walked over the top of the hill to the lower part of the park, by then I’d recognised my mother. She came closer to the window but too far for us to communicate clearly. I looked down to the windowsill and noticed it was covered in a thick layer of dust. I could write her the message of my new grandmotherly status in there! Somehow I knew she could read the message. I wrote my message and I looked up into her smiling face. Without words she invited me to have a look where she was now and she turned around and walked away. I stood on my toes to peek over the windowsill and to my surprise I saw an enormously wide, deep (no bottom in sight) gap underneath the window. No one not being able to fly could have jumped over it. I watched my mother walking on, she turned around and before she would disappear over the top of the hill she waved.
I woke up with such a wonderful feeling. My mother knew now that I had become a grandmother and I knew she was where she was meant to be. I still miss her though, but the edge of that yearning heart is gone. The bitterness is gone, sweetness is what stayed, and I made sure with the birth of my second granddaughter that I told her in a prayer how happy I was. No need anymore to write in dust. I feel now that my mother hears me and that makes me smile.
Do you long for bridging the gap? A reading with Karin (in Dutch or English) or a Tarot reading with Sig (in English) gives you the magical experience of being into contact with the sixth sense that permeates our world.
Karin Schluter – Eiland 2 – 1601 KZ Enkhuizen – The Netherlands