“I’m listening,” I responded. And I was.
Her explanation took a long time as she struggled for breaths between sentences, but in a nutshell, I understood her loud and clear. Mom explained that I already participated in parallel universes every time I envisioned myself doing something different. Perhaps a different job, maybe having a talent that I didn’t currently possess.
Her idea was that if you could envision being or doing something else, or imagine the type of life you could have, then you were tapping into your parallel life.“Your imagination can give you the doorway to tap into your intuition,”she’d declared.
I sort of knew what she was trying to explain because I often thought about what could have been when I wondered what my life would be if Ihad chosen to be a doctor or maybe even a teacher. I would imagine caring for others, treating my mother’s illness, the prestige that life might offer. The visions were always full and detailed. I hated to admit that I assumed we all had fantasy visions during sex. The act is pleasurable, but how many times in our minds did we insert other participants in place of our partners? Role playing in our minds can create satisfying details. Her belief was that our imagination was our doorway to our intuition and the way to access other dimensions which are our parallel lives.
Knowing that I was a man of computer science and held strong beliefs in provable theories, Mom brought up a young Princeton University doctoral candidate named Hugh Everett III. In 1954 he came up with a radical idea that parallel universes exist exactly like our own universe. These universes are all related to ours; in fact, they branch off from ours and our universe branched off from others. Mom quoted string theory research that suggests that parallel universes can come in contact with each other. Therein was where she and her medium Druzella believed meditation could transport us to a parallel universe when these branches meet.
“I am convinced that if you meditateandif you envision going to another universe, it can happen,” she stated. “The alignment of stars and planets affects everything and with Druzella’s assistance, I can deliver you there. My potion, Druzella’s charts for you and Cooper, which have never been aligned better, and your belief will make it happen.”
I couldn’t believe my next words. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “One more request before I go,” she said, causing my heart to thump painfully.
I nodded and desperately held onto her hand, hoping I could transport both of us to one of those parallel universes.
“Ask away,” I croaked, unable to compose myself any longer.
“First off, give me avery healthyshot of the morphine and then tell me about you and Cooper, honey,” she requested. “Tell me what you imagine the two of you are doing in a different world? Where are thirty year old Cooper and you living?”
Suddenly I didn’t like the thought of her taking the drug. I didn’t like theimplication. “Are you sure?” I asked, reaching for the prefilled syringe on Dad’s nightstand. The moment I lifted the syringe off of the nightstand, the light turned off.
Mom smiled through her pain. “See? Dad is waiting for me.”
I gave her the shot, trying to pass off the lamp as faulty wiring since it was old.
“Now, where were we?” she asked, pausing to catch her breath. “Oh, yes, I’ve always known you boys were destined to be together,” she explained. “And because of that, I have so desperately wanted the two of you to be reunited again. Now tell me, son, where are you and your beloved Cooper in your vision?”
I decided to share a desire that I often had. Why not? If Mom and Dad were about to be reunited, why couldn’t Cooper and I?
I climbed in the bed and laid on my side, facing Mom. My left hand held her right while the other was tucked between us. I’d been doing this for as long as I could remember when I needed a dose of her love. Mom was always a safe haven for me and I needed her strength now more than ever.
“Well, let me see,” I began, gazing at the streetlights outside. “I think we’re right here in Idaho Falls. You live next door to us. Maybe still in this house and Cooper and I are next door in the Taylor’s house. You’ve planted a huge row of marigolds between our driveways just to piss me off,” I said before adding, “and God willing, you aren’t summoning the dead anymore.” I chuckled at my joke as I set up my life with an adult Cooper. “We’d still be over on Sunday mornings of course. We’d be married, Mom,” I whispered. “We’d be happy and I would tell him I loved him every single day.”
I choked up and paused. The thought of that life sounded amazing and I wished so much for another chance with him. I stared at the wall behind Mom before glancing down to her chest. I waited.One, two, three, four,I counted in my head. Nothing.
“Mom?” I cried, sitting up immediately and nudging her shoulder. “Mom?”
It was extremely difficult to see through the wall of tears, but I squinted to make out the numbers on the clock that sat on the dresser at the foot ofthe bed. It was 11:59 P.M. on August 29th. Mom suddenly took another shallow breath. I watched through tears as she faded away, hopefully to Dad who was waiting on the other side.
One, two, three, four, five.Nothing. Mom had ceased breathing.One, two, three, four, five.And then it was 12:01 A.M. on August 30th.
Mom was gone.
Just like she’d wanted.
I moved closer and draped my arm around her, bringing her empty body closer and hoping for her soul to find my father while I gently wept.
I was alone.
* * *
After several minutes I got up and made my way to the kitchen to find my cell phone. The house was eerily quiet. Even our home knew she’d moved on. Regardless of my wishing for a miracle, Mom had made her decision and left on her terms. There couldn’t have been another way for her to die. Strong willed and so incredibly in tune with her surroundings, she’d made the final move.
The funeral home’s number was on a notepad alongside Marie’s number. I placed the two calls and then opened the fridge. If there was ever a time for beer it was now, but I couldn’t bring myself to grab a bottle. For some reason I doubted I’d ever drink beer again. Instead I reached for a bottle of water then let the door close. Turning, I headed for the French doors that opened to the back patio. I flipped on the patio light and stepped outside. I needed to see her marigolds and inform them that she’d abandoned them too.
The periphery of the patio was pitch black, hiding the corners of the deck that disappeared into the shadows and around the side of the house. My eyes scanned the edges of the deck through tears of grief.What should I do now?And then I noticed two yellow circles glowing through the darkness inside the faint outline of a black cat.
