I awoke to see a gate, glorious in shimmering light; and a man, bent with age, that scarcely noted my presence.

So I call out to him, and he answers.

It is the saint himself.

He tells me this is the afterlife, and I have earned my place. The book was true, here is a place of endless tranquility, peace, and love.

I think of my mother, who had sacrificed too much for my sake, the person who took the ills of the world upon herself for my sake, with dignity, grace, kindness.

I had so much to tell, so much to share, and I would have an eternity to do so.

With jubilation, I ask that we may meet.

The old man studies me, and after many moments, makes a chilling utterance,

“No.”

Tears fill my eyes, as I ruminate upon this travesty. The irresistible conclusion confounded me and broke my spirit, crashing to my knees, I wept freely.

For how long, I could not tell, until a bony hand rests on my shoulder.

I hear his voice, reassuring me that my dear mother is here.

I look up to meet an empathic gaze, finding the courage, I ask,

“Then why can’t we be reunited?”

With eyes glistening he tells me,

“Because her idea of paradise, is one without you.”