Gate: The Star

I stepped through the vision gate and found myself standing in the night sky.  All I could see were stars within the firmament but suddenly a great wind arose and along with this force of nature I beheld spirits in the shape of men and women running through the sky. Moving quickly and with purpose, they were constructed of the sky and stars themselves and I found myself carried along with them.

We came to a bed floating in the nothingness of space and on it an ancient spirit in the shape of a woman lay who was shaped of the sky and stars like the others of our company.  They gathered together weeping and reaching for the hand of the elderly sky spirit.  One cried out in grief. “Mother, you cannot die. There is still so much wisdom you have to impart to us,” he said. “Please don’t leave your children in the darkness outside of your presence.”

As I gazed on at the death bed of a beloved mother, my sight shifted and instead of being constructed of the sky and stars the figures now appeared as everyday people with clothing and skin made of flesh except that from their hearts bright lights shone.  The woman on the bed was ancient beyond imagining with silvery hair reaching all the way to her feet.  Her light was not bright, but fading and weak and she shook with small tremors, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“My children,” she whispered. “You must be brave now. Live and laugh and love with all your hearts and make that my memorial, not this grief, not this sorrow.”

One of the young men who knelt at the side of the bed, turned and saw me.  He appeared to my eyes as my grandfather when he was a young man. The spirit rose angrily from his dying mother’s bedside and ran at me in anger. “Who are you to witness the death of our mother? Do you come to mock us in our grief?” he said. “Begone, shadow, back to the void you emerged from.”

“My name is Heidi and I am no shadow, Great One,” I said. “I did not mean to intrude on a private family matter but I was brought to this place by the moving stars in the sky.  You look so familiar to me, like family from another world. Who are you?”

“You have no business or sympathy here, Formless One,” he replied. “Begone, I command you in the name of the warriors of light.  Our mother hasn’t much time left and I will not waste it bandying words with a shadow.”

“Orion,” the ancient lady upon the bed whispered. “This is not a shadow if she was brought here by our sisters and brethren of the lighted skies. Stand aside and let her pass for the death of a star isn’t something that one witnesses every day.  Come closer, wanderer and dreamer.”

The sky spirit named Orion bowed his head to his mother. “It shall be as you wish,” he said and gestured in my direction. I found myself propelled by his motion to the bedside of the dying star. The ancient one reached for my hand and I gave it to her.

“You may not believe me,” she whispered. “But I was young once like you with my whole life before me. Now that I see my ending, I find myself wishing I could live it all over again for what marvels life holds and what wonders.”

“Great One, of course, I believe you,” I said.  “You must have seen many extraordinary things in your life and had such adventures.”

“That I have, that I have,” the ancient one said.  “Stars remember our births, you know.  One moment we are not, the next moment we are.  We have no parents nor families other than those we choose for ourselves. It is our chosen family who mourns for us when we depart the realm of the living, not necessarily the ones of our birth.”

“Is that why all of these people address you as Mother?” I said. “Is it pretend?”

The spirit wheezed softly in amusement and smiled.  “It is the best kind of pretend, young one. They are the stars closest to me and I am one of the eldest among us, counseling and encouraging them to shine all their lives.  Call me, Andromeda,” the ancient said.  “These young ones are distraught because they love me and I have been around since they appeared, which is a very long time indeed.  But once many years ago, I met someone even older than myself and he changed the course of my existence. Would you like to hear the tale?”

“Please, Andromeda,” I said. “Tell us your story, please. I will remember it and bring it back to my waking world so that your message will not be lost to eternity. I am very good at pretending too and will call you my mother as those who are gathered here do.”

“Will you also grieve for her as we do?” Orion said beside me. “You mock our tears as I said.”

“Peace, my son,” Andromeda said. “This one mourns already, I feel the grief in her heart. Do not deny her a place at my bedside simply because you arrived here first.”

“She mourns for us? How could this be when we have just met?” Orion said. “Mother, what do you mean?”

“Listen to my words, all of you,” the ancient spirit said. “My meaning will become clear in the fullness of time.” Then she closed her eyes and began to whisper softly: