Another perplexed cloud obscured my perception about a while ago. My psyche was overflowing with memoirs of Plumplum…
How delighted we were… Without a doubt!
How exquisite she was… Undeniably!
I spotted picture frames in our home and I reinstated it with snapshots of Plumplum. My discernment lingered for a bit, tears trickled then I smiled.
Where could she be at this time?
What is keeping her busy?
Unquestionably she is in paradise, sky-scraping in the seventh heaven! One more image flashed in my reminiscence; In the past when Plumplum cries, the antidote is to bring her to the fire exit in close proximity to our unit wherein the panorama is a spacious skylight. Her vivid almond eyes would jazz up and I can sense the radiance of her soul with the view of airplanes, far above the ground buildings with gaudy lights and the sky occupied with gleaming stars. Throughout this instant, I would sigh then speak softly to her ears…
“Plumplum, that’s HEAVEN, that’s where God is. ”
Then I would firmly close my eyes and let my spirit exclaim
“God, Sanctify this favour I have. Please let her obtain an opportune fulfilling existence”.
Then I would kiss her, caress her skin and cuddle her closer. The feeling was tremendous… it was indeed splendid!
How hefty could her wings be?
How dazzling could her halo be?
When my mom witnessed Plumplum for the first instance she illustrated Plumplum as an adorable appealing petite cherub with an exceptionally intense aura and so without hesitation I postulate that her circle of light is positively and spectacularly shimmering. Furthermore, being aware that Plumplum is a little chubby and noticeably tall then it suggests that her fluffy wings are sturdy.
Does she know that I miss her so much?
Does she still know me?
If she sees me again, will she call me her MAMA?
I am still craving for that moment she would label me “mama” but we did not arrive to that. I presumed that it would be an added awe-inspiring occurrence if it did transpire. Disappointing it is to distinguish that it can’t take place anymore and more because I am compelled to endure that it’s the reality.
How harder can this loss be?
A friend of mine visited our home and she brought her daughter (Irish) with her.
Irish: Where is your baby?
Me: She is already in Heaven.
Irish: She died? (with a smile)
Me: Yes (amazed and confused)
Irish: Just like Baby Jesus?
Me: Yes, Just like him… (relieved)
It is apparent that I don’t feel like hearing the word dead, death, died from the time when Plumplum travelled to heaven. I preferably make use of the phrase “went to heaven” as a substitute of other words because it sounds less infuriating but I cannot hinder conversations involving the words I don’t like to have the sense of hearing with. In spite of this when those words came from Irish, it felt so light-hearted and sanguine. She even smiled at the same time as verbalizing it. I cannot lay blame on her for being heedless instead I was grateful to her for rendering me acceptance. I then felt how unblemished, chaste and immaculate angels could be. They don’t have a notion of agony and sorrow. And that’s my utmost aspiration for my daughter and my wish granted.
What I have devotion now is that Plumplum is in a divine bliss, gazing at me. Maybe she is crying with me or smiling at times. Maybe she longs for me the same way I do for her? But I know she is valiant and well-built, she is in a more contented timeless place and she is doing her most excellent to provide me resolutions to my difficulty. Her commission is to preserve my commitment to God and to trust that even if life separates us, in next to no time a different life would reunite us.
in next to no time
-->> jOuRneY known as LiFe <<-- 