I See the Light

Looking at his cell phone, Heath opened the chat window, confirming his mother hadn’t replied to any of his texts. He’d messaged Happy Holidays Mom earlier that morning. The message was delivered and had been seen, too, about half an hour ago. He knew she wouldn’t reply.

Heath looked at the messages above it, torturing himself. The first one had been delivered the day after Thanksgiving. Gramma had a heart attack and passed away. Please come back, Mommy. I need you. Following that was a message sent the next day. The funeral is tomorrow. Will you come please?

His vision blurred and a lump formed in his throat as he remembered that worst day of his life. When he’d sent that message while in bed, the bubble had popped up, indicating that someone was typing on the other end. He remembered feeling excited and hopeful at seeing it. However, it had disappeared as quickly as it came up. Heath had stared at the screen for several minutes, but a response had never come. He’d finally cried himself to sleep.

Sniffing, he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision before putting his phone away. “I’m pretending to sleep and giving you some space to mope a while. But I’m here for you.” He heard Leo’s low whisper.

Heath broke into laughter. “Glad that you are, Leo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

The little dog raised his head to look up at him, and explained, “I really miss the old lady. She was so kind. She’d feed me when you went away.” Leo then placed his head back down and said, “I miss her so much more when you aren’t around.”

“I know, Leo. I know.” Heath ran his hand down Leo’s back lovingly.

“I know you said she died. But I don’t know what that means. Is she coming back?”

Heath gulped, and the words came out heavily when he spoke. “When people die, they don’t come back again. It stinks. But that’s life.”

“Yeah, it stinks alright. Stinks like the greens you give me to eat sometimes. I hate it.” That made Heath chuckle, before the two of them sat there in silence as the sound of the chair rocking every second filled the air. After a few seconds, Leo broke the silence again. “Do me a favor, and please don’t ever die.”

Heath chuckled at the dog’s innocence and suggested, “I won’t, if you’ll do the same favor for me.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Whatever Leo said after that was lost on Heath, because he suddenly stood up. He glanced just once, giving his dog an apologetic look, before turning to look toward the woods again. It was there. In the exact spot he saw it every year was the light, and it was the same night—the night before Christmas.