I can picture my mother sitting in the pews of her church as if it’s a scene in a movie, playing directly in front of me. Something I haven’t seen in real-life for over three years, but one that streams in my head with ease and reliability. It’s one of the special places my mother’s belonging showed. It’s one of the places she always seemed at peace, comforted, and filled with hope.
Looking back, it’s easy to see it was her place. A place that guided and inspired the innermost workings of her heart, soul, and attitude. The light always seemed to find her there, shining down on her as if a spotlight in a play. As she sat in the pews of the church, she glowed. She was illuminated with simplicity and the belief in the beauty of eternity.
We’d sit side-by-side, listening to the stories of the Bible, as she gently traced the lines on my hand. She’d delicately rub my fingers as a silent devotion of love and adoration. She had the most effortless and beautiful ways of making you feel loved. It was her speciality. Not a day passed that I didn’t feel her love and support, even when it wasn’t easy.
Now that my mother is gone, I picture her just as she was while planted in the pews of the Catholic church. I picture her smile, the glimmer in her eyes, and the hope that radiated from her heart. I picture her in the pews of heaven, watching us all, sprinkling hope, faith, and support from above. I picture her with light shining wherever she goes, just as it did in her favorite place. I picture her, in a place where she belongs, more than anywhere else in the world. A place that illuminates her strength, her beauty, and her worthiness.
When her death was fresh, it haunted me. It filled my mind with a constant stream of heartbreak and ache. Time has changed the visions that fill my mind and heart. Time has shifted the visions from horror to radiating hope. One day, as I sat reminiscing about the greatest woman I’ve ever known, I found myself picturing her in the place she loved, her church.
For those that have lost someone, where was their belonging? Where was the special place they always looked their best, not because of physical beauty, but because their souls were radiating joy, exuding happiness, and constantly expressing fulfillment? Picture them there.
Picture them free.
Picture them whole and healthy.
Picture them in their most authentic belonging.
Think of a time when you saw them and smiled, and picture them there.
A thirty-something wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.