Tears from Heaven


(This is a true story)

Tears from Heaven 

(revised on Jan 15 2015)

 It was an October day, around lunch time. My father called to tell me that my mother was not going to make it this time. After a long night spent with her in the hospital, he came home to eat something, take his pills, and have a shower. I asked him to wait for me and me and my husband drove to his house in a rush. When we got to the hospital, the nurse was looking to us with such a great pity: “she just passed away… just now. You were probably already in the hospital when she died. I am sorry...
We did the preparations for the funeral and people came in a waves to pay the last respects to my mother. My brother was serving the army by then (in another town, by the, going for training in the army was mandatory) and I had to call there to ask for permission for him to come home. As I knew how much he loved our mom, I asked the officer from that army unit not to tell him she already died, but to tell him she might not make it this time. In fact, we knew that my mom and my brother had such a strong connection, they were so close and her only last wish was to see him back home from the army, with her, and then she said she could die in peace. So we were afraid that if he had found out, he might kill himself before reaching home. My other brother went to pick him up with a car from the railway station (train, final stop). He was supposed to prepare the soldier for the sad news. But on the way home he didn't find the right moment to tell him, he could not spell it out in anyway, he had to find a way to tell him… My mother's coffin was surrounded by people. We brought her home from the hospital, for her to see her house for the last time (she loved her house) and the next day we were to bring her to the Cemetery’s Chapel. The very moment when my brother entered the room, on my mother’s pale and steel cheeks, tears were running down her chin. In the quietness of the room, we heard sounds of astonishments from someone. People around the coffin instantly started to silently cry, smile, and gesture in a speechless amazement. They were assisting to a possible truth that love is surviving beyond death and more, that there is something after life. Were they the chosen ones to witness a miracle? But then why them? What was the message for all of us and for each of us in particular? Not even the most sceptical, atheistic persons present there dared to take this as a bad joke or to minimize the effect it had on us. After processing the fact, we went to the kitchen and had a coffee and some smokes, trying to come to our senses. My aunts and uncles said their knees were shaking. We gave different interpretations to the event: some said it’s the colourless liquid injected to preserve the body . Some said she was at the morgue, frozen, before she was brought home. Some said in our religion (Christian) the soul does not leave the earth and the house where he/she lived but after 40 days. It was not about contesting the fact; everybody saw that, it was about understanding and processing what we saw. Ok, frozen, injected, ok! We agreed to all the possibilities. But why tears? They could be sweat drops, or any other thing! And why exactly the moment her most loved son entered the house??? We, the other two children were there before…and her husband and all those relative and friends!

Many strange things happened those days and nights. I'd rather not mention them, not to be taken as insane. But those who assisted to those facts think so differently now about after life.

After 17 years from this event...I finally understood (in a wink, talking to a friend about this) why my mother cried that day. Having an out of body experience myself, I know that once you reach there, you can see the future somehow in a way that is beyond my poor human vocabulary. Therefore, I believe my mother was already there, in the after life, seeing the future of her children. But it took 17 years for the events to unfold to finally understand the reason for her crying. Mom could see my future and also the future of my brothers. From the three of us, only the brother she cried for had a terrible hard and harsh life that lead to his death at 38 YO. So sometimes we have to wait for 17 years to get an answer, but when it comes, it comes instantly, somehow like the last piece of the puzzle, the most important one that makes the whole difference in the picture.  

N.B. This is indeed a true story, and please try to take a minute to give your own interpretation to the facts. For me and all those who were present there it is a whole new perspective of love and death.

By adria

© 2008 adria (All rights reserved)