Finding Balance in a Wobbly World or Cell Phones in Heaven

It feels like the earth is wobbling on its axis. The stars don’t line up in the sky quite the way they used to. I need to get to the ocean so I can look at the horizon and make sure it’s still there. Is there still a sharp line that separates the ocean from the sky? Or has the sea begun to leak into the atmosphere blurring the delineation between heaven and earth? I need evidence that our world is not tumbling off course. I need assurance that the sun is still holding fast to us, not letting us slip from the safety of its gravitational embrace.

My mother died less than three months ago. I hadn’t realized that she was responsible for maintaining the balance of the earth. But it must be so, because since she has left everything seems off kilter.  I find myself searching for something to hold on to. Or someone to hold me so that I stay on my feet.

Who is going to hold out their arms to hug me every single time they see me? Who can I talk to on the phone every night? Who will be interested in my cholesterol levels or my blood pressure?  Who will tell me how I need to treat mouth ulcers or a scalp condition?  Who will take daily interest in every detail of the lives of my two daughters? Who will be promoting my wife’s next book to every person she encounters?  Who will risk driving everyone crazy to make sure that we all get together at the holidays as a family? And most importantly, who is going to tell me just how handsome I am? 

The answer to all these questions had always been “Mom”. 

A couple of weeks ago I had lunch with my brother and he said, “How can someone be here all this time, and in the next instant they are gone?” Exactly. I want to pick up the phone and ask her. Reading my thoughts, he says that they need cell phone service in heaven. I laugh, and later that day, imagine how the conversation would go if we could just make that call: “Well, that’s just ridiculous. I haven’t gone anywhere. I don’t know how in the world you could think that I would leave any of you. I can’t possibly go anywhere. There is too much to do.  I have to take care of things.”  But Mom, I would protest. I haven’t seen you in weeks. She would reply, “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

And as always, my mother is right. It is ridiculous. She has not left us. All I have to do is call and listen for her to answer.

I wrap up our phone conversation, “Thanks Mom. I’m really glad we talked. You made me feel better. I know that you haven’t gone anywhere. Ok. Bye, I love you.”

I want to call my brother and thank him for making me think of that question to ask Mom. I might not have called if he had not planted the suggestion. Who knew that there were cell phones in heaven?

Maybe when I wake up tomorrow I’ll remember that I can just call her whenever I want. She’ll tell me to use Peroxyl for the mouth ulcers and the Rite-Aid brand of dandruff shampoo. She’ll ask how my Doctor’s visit went. I’ll fill her in on what the girls are up to. She’ll ask when my wife’s next book is coming out. And she’ll tell me how proud she is of all of us and just how handsome I am.

Maybe tomorrow the earth will right itself. The stars will take their normal positions. Maybe the sun will shine a reminder my way telling me that it is holding fast to us, that we are safe,  and that my mother is just a phone call away.

She never left the place she had been all along. Our Hearts. 

"You think the dead we love ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?" Albus Dumbledore, The Greatest Wizard to ever Live