I am sorry for the abrupt ending of my post yesterday. I was called urgently away in the middle of my update. Strange to think of how brief a time has passed since then.
Tammy’s mother has died.
Forgive my bluntness, but I can think of no better way to share the news. Why should I try to delay the truth, when the event itself happened so quickly? As far as I know, Sheridan Jones was still lively and sharp-tongued when the sun last shone on her part of the earth. Now she is gone.
It was a heart attack. I do not know the meaning of those words, not really. Is it that the body attacks the heart to make it fail, or else that the heart’s failure attacks the entire body? Or is it meant to be an attack from outside, some evil of the world bringing a weight on the heart that crushes it? I do not know, and I cannot bring myself to ask Brid, who would surely know better than I. All I know is that when Tammy was informed, it felt like her own heart was failing her, and her deep fear called me out of heaven to be with her.
She waited with Lamarr in the hospital for what felt like days, but was in truth only a few hours. I have never felt so useless before. I did ask for Brid’s help, and though she could not come herself, she spoke to her senior, Zaman, who was kind enough to look in on Sheridan. I am deeply grateful for Zaman’s assistance, but I knew well that if it was against the Will of the Father that she be saved, she would not be saved. All I could do was wait for the verdict with Tammy and Lamarr, standing with wings wrapped around them as they sat together in the cold, white hallway, she clasping his hands tightly.
I knew the truth only a moment before they did. Zaman came out to where we waited, his aura full of sorrow. He shook his head at me and departed, fading to show the weary nurse coming out of the operating room, her face already carrying the strain of the bad news she had to offer.
Tammy burst into tears, knowing exactly what the results were. It was Lamarr who gave his attention to the nurse, nodding and thanking her through his own tears, holding Tammy close as she wept on his shoulder.
It was in the midst of all of this that I turned and saw a new figure standing among us. It was hard to turn away from Tammy’s grief, but also a relief, guilty though that makes me feel. “Greetings, sister,” I said.
Her name is Haizea, and she is a Principality Gather. There was such peace in her face, a peace that both forgave my sorrow and encouraged it.
“Grief is the price of love,” she said to me. “And it is always worth the price, as you know, brother.”
I looked down at her hands. Between her fingers, the light of a soul shone with a muted brilliance. “May I ask what her destination is?”
Amusement was in her smile. “Of course you may ask, but that is not for you to know.”
“I only wish to offer comfort to those left behind.”
Her smile faded. “I know. But you will do well enough on your own.” She glanced down. “Sheridan is grateful for your service to her daughter. She hopes that you will continue to watch over the children.”
“Give her my promise,” I replied. “I could never leave them alone in such pain.”
Haizea nodded, drawing her folded hands and their precious cargo close to her chest. “Be strong, then, Asa’el, for them both. I will tell you this—Sheridan is not afraid.”
She spread her wings, and the two of them vanished in one powerful downstroke. I bowed low, knowing that my hopes and prayers followed them. Then I turned back to Tammy’s tears.
The coming days will not be easy. Tammy is shocked, full of pain and regrets, blaming herself for things that could never have been her fault. In turn, Lamarr feels helpless, and angry at his own helplessness. Their happiness has turned quite suddenly into uncertainty and fear, and I am worried that it will cause a divide between them.
I will do what I can for them, but I, too, doubt my own abilities. Only our Father-King knows what will come in the next days, and I can only leave it in his hands.