Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

I had the dream again.
Mommy and I went stargazing.
Out in the field.
We lay on our backs on the damp grass.
The crisp, night air brushes my face gently.
It is peaceful.
We look at the stars.
A familiar scene
Where we talk
About whatever happened today
At school for me.
At work for her.
At whereever we went.
And as we lay
On that damp grass
In the cool evening
Under the moon
Under the stars
I ask a question.
About a word.
I've heard it before.
I am young.
Don't get it.
So, of course
I ask.
"Mommy?"
I begin to ask.
"Yes?"
She smiles sweetly.
"What is dying, Mommy?"
I ask at last.
It is a queer, somewhat uncomfortable question.
"Well," Mommy begins.
"One day,
When a person grows very old,
Or gets hurt very badly,
That person dies."
"What's that?"
"I'm telling."
"Oh."
"Shh."
I shh.
"It happens to all of us.
We turn into a butterfly
And fly out of our body
Which we leave on Earth
And fly
Away
Up and up and up....
Until we touch the sky
And go through the clouds
And go to a place
We call 'Heaven'.
And our butterfly self
Becomes a star
Like those we see now.
Look."
I look.
I ask,
"Do we all become stars?"
"Yes.
Everyone does.
Eventually. And we join all of our other stars
Of other people who died
And we gather
And sing
And dance
And be happy
Forever.
We all become stars."
She smiles.
"So I become a star?"
"Yeah."
"Do you, Mommy?"
"Yeah."
"Will I get to see you?"
Mommy pauses.
She is hiding her face.
"Y---Yes."
"But you'll be a star..."
"If you look up to the sky
You might see my star
And if you don't
Remember this.
I will always,
Always
Be with you.
And--"
Mommy turns around.
"A-And..."
She is stuttering.
She is quiet.
I am quiet.
But I understand.
Leaving me makes her sad.
I don't want her to be sad.
So I am quiet, too.
And we both lie under the stars
And look up into that sky
As I try
And find the butterflies.