Last impression

She was standing in her kitchen…and while she waited for the water to boil she parted her hair from the centre in exactly half and placed each half on each side of her shoulder…she then held both sides in her hand and placed each half on the opposite shoulder and tugged them a little to keep it tight…she poured the boiling water into the mug, coffee with a little sugar and she kept stirring the coffee in the mug and with that the hair that she had made such an enormous effort to hold into place let itself loose…and the fringes in the front of her hair fell onto her face…but I couldn’t see her face clearly, she was standing sideways stirring the coffee with the fringes of her hair blocking her face…she turned towards the wash basin behind her and dropped the coffee stained spoon into the wash basin…and turned towards me and smiled…the dark kitchen lit up instantly…she looked beautiful…there was sunlight filtering into the kitchen from the windows behind her giving the impression of a halo around her head…her silky hair glistened in the sunlight…she looked like an angel in her white t-shirt…she stretched out her hand and I took it into mine…’I love you’, she said…I looked back at her, her eyes filled with tears…I couldn’t say anything back…that is my last impression of her…

She slept that night with her head onto my arm…peacefully…but I couldn’t sleep…if you really knew her, you’d know that she believed in signs…but this time she didn’t see it coming…and now when I look back I think I did…my last impression of her was that of an angel, probably what has become by now…not in her kitchen though but in some place that the priest spoke about at her funeral service…that’s how I want to remember her or maybe that’s how she wanted me to remember her…