Her wandering gaze caught on the note stamped on the headboard of his crib. One of several pasted all over the room. She’d loved this one and had it pasted on his crib for keepsakes.
With misty eyes she read:
It’s my birthday.
I woke up to cake and a birthday song. Eema says I’m a year older. Do you know what that is? Ah! You’re omniscient; skips my mind at times. It’s strange you know, the shoes I had last year don’t fit anymore. This is the real miracle, Pops. 😁😁😅
Eema says I’m growing, so I reminded her of her ancestors and how we made their shoes stay their size for 40 years. She loves it when I tell her history, she says I say it like it’s still today. Probably, because the concept of measured time is still like rocket science (that’s a simile right there, my teacher says this is the hardest thing to learn, I laughed so hard that I was picked out, story for another day).
Umm, I have to go do the dishes now okay. Talk soon, Pops!
(Yay, We have a Mexican neighbor, actually he’s Chinese, but they don’t know, remember his twentieth generation father migrated tha… Oh… Gotta go, gotta go now)
Two tear drops stained the note.
Suddenly coming to, she wiped her eyes as the note dropped freely falling from her trembling hands.
Her baby boy.
She could still see his smiles as he toddled and stumbled, hear his stammers as he stuck on pronouncing the word synagogue at 3 years and feel his hugs as he left for school each morning. She’d give everything to have him in her hands again.
The one who would rebuke his brothers for disobeying her, take Jude cycling and do the dishes after the evening meal.
The one they crucified on Friday. The one she prepared spices for last night.
Blinking away memories, she shawled-up and stepped into the bleak sunrise, basket in hand. The ladies had begged her not to accompany them to the grave as it would be overwhelming for her.
She waited their return patiently…
Was that light she saw? No, it couldn’t be! Not possible!
Yet, it was.
The tears of joy pooled on her shawl as she knelt in worship at the sight of the glorified Christ.
And as she bowed her heart in worship, hope rose in her and peace flooded her soul as heart soared.
May we behold the glorified Christ!