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Time to Come Home

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The sky is no longer blue, it is black. The grass is no longer green, it is the cold dark color of black. That is all I see now. Black covers my entire world. I feel no emotion. I am not sad, I am not happy, I am just there. When I see the deer running around in the field, I feel the need to look back to the memory of the baby deer on that warm September day, but I can’t.

Not only can I not feel the sadness in my heart, I don’t want to feel it. If I feel it I will be stuck with more pain than I already have been given. I’m not sure of who I am or where I am at. I’m lost in my thoughts and I am lost in the now. I take my cold, tired, and old body out to the middle of the field and I stand there. A bright light flashes. I feel a woman take my hand. Then a group of glorious voices say in unison, “It’s time to come home, Gloria, it’s time to come home.”





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