after the death of my mother, i noticed a shift in my way of thinking about death.  at odds against the clammy hand that clutched my heart each time i thought about what happened when you die was the notion that regardless of what happened, i would go where my mother was. this has provided me a childish reassurance. my main source of security for 26 years has taken a path ahead of me, and one day i will follow.

the clammy hand still comes. maybe less than it used to, but i quickly try to meet its grip with this reassurance. for many years i have been so jealous of those who are deeply rooted in their fates, their beliefs so firmly entrenched in reincarnation or christian afterlife that the clammy hand never seizes them, freezes them. this is the closest thing i have to that, naive as it may be.

may god – or whatever entity is calling the shots, whichever version we may or may not believe in – bless you, billie schaefer. i hope my mom was waiting for you to give you a hand and help you along when you got there – wherever there is.