All was quiet except the sound of a soft breeze. A young boy maybe thirteen stared outside into the endless night sky. Although the boy’s eyes stared at the night his mind was far far away.

All he could think about was his mother, her long red hair, her smile, even the tone of her voice when she told him stories of magical places and great heroes. Suddenly, he noticed something moving outside. It came closer and closer, it looked like his mother. The boy torn with grief had hope for the first time in weeks and did what any curious boy one would do, he ran towards the ghost, sneaking slowly out of the window.

He finally walked so close to the image that he could almost touch it, but felt nothing. The sadness rushed in and his body began to slowly shake as he started to cry to himself. “Why?! Why did you have to die!” The boy screamed in agony, he wished he could hug her, and hear her soothing voice. But nothing happened, he sat there in silence on his knees, tears slowly falling from his eyes. “It’s all my fault! If I had only….” A wave of thought and pain washed over the grief stricken boy.

His heart ached, a mental rather than physical pain, all he wished for was his mother, nothing more. His memory stretched backwards to days of when he was three years old, he remembered his mother carrying him through a fair filled with living legends of kings, queens and nobleman.

Another memory popped into his mind, he remembered when his best friend moved away and he feared he never see him again. His mother sat there stroking his hair saying it would be alright. Soon his beautiful memories vanished as a puff of smoke as his chest began to hurt. Longing just to be with her one more time.

The young boy breathed deeply trying to stop the tears from flowing, it worked for a few minutes. Then he started to feel very depressed, feeling guilty, sad and grief struck through him like a sword.

Stew slopped into the large bowl that he held in front of him. The boy pressed his hand to his mouth, nearly vomiting. He quietly sat down next to his cousins. They sat there eating the food, talking and laughing, the boy tried to join them.

Soon he finished the stew and continued to his room to just lie in his bed. Something was different, he looked at his pillow, and on it was a pendant with the words “carpe diem” (“seize the day) on it. His mother had given it to him when he was worried about a sick friend. How? When? He looked around looking at his cousins. Looking at the pendant, the boy began to accept his mother’s death and realized its okay to be happy about somethings and memories.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)

Click here for more Grief and Mourning resources available at the Shalom Counseling site and the Stories to Console Page

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