Drop in visits from Mom are most welcome

As may be true for all of us, my parents indelibly influenced the person I am and despite their deaths, remain an abiding presence in my life.Mama was the first to die and I missed her achingly.Several months after her death, I was in church when we were celebrating with old-time gospel favorites.

The joyous melodies and satisfying rhythms of these hymns swelled my heart with cascading memories of my life.I sang with gusto and grew attuned to the voices around me -- the man behind me singing slightly off-key, the creaky soprano to his left, the high pre-adolescent voice to my right.

It was not until we began "Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine" that a new voice chimed in -- so clear, so distinct, so not there before, an alto voice in perfect harmony.Even as I looked for the newcomer, I felt a comfortable familiarity with the voice, but recognition lay just beyond my reach.Though puzzled, I found the new voice uniquely comforting.

Through the third stanza and into the fourth, the new voice continued its purity and strength seemingly unnoticed by all but me.And then, without further prelude, the spirit of my mother permeated my being with loving reassurance.Oh, so briefly, I luxuriated in the fullness of her presence, basking in a surge of wholeness and well being I had not enjoyed since her death.In rising jubilation, her voice overrode the last resounding note and then was gone.

On another occasion, rather late at night, Mama surprised me with a drop-in visit.She didn't bother with the door, simply breezed in and alighted herself at the far end of the sofa where I had been napping.Pushing conventionality further aside, she dispensed with apologies for her late arrival or barging in unannounced.She was light, aflutter, but focused.

In firm, clear voice, she asked, "How are you?"When I hesitated, struggling to respond under these unusual circumstances, she again asked, "How are you?" in a manner of patient urgency, genuine inquiry and deepest caring.Stammering, I said "Mama, I'm fine.I miss you."In an instant, she was gone leaving the way she had come bypassing the door.

Some might say that I'd imagined these incidents, but I like to think that Mama missed me, too.

Wanda Lane lives in Sun City Hilton Head. Contact her at wandalane@hargray.com