I was free. For the first time in a long time there was no pain, no struggle; just peace. The last thing I remember was the feeling that someone was giving me a kiss. It was a sweet kiss on the cheek and my breathing slowed down to a stop. I'm not in the dark but there's no light around me, either. Despite not knowing where I am, this feeling of peace won't let me go.

"Joanie," I heard my father whisper.

"I'm here, daddy," I call back out for him. "Do you see me?"

"Yes. Do you see me?"

"No."

"Open your eyes."

"They are open."

"No, they're not. Open them."

I thought this was ridiculous. Anyway, I give it a shot and I flutter them open again and again until daddy is in plain sight. He looks just like I remember him as a young girl and I recognized our meeting place as my childhood home. We were in the living room and there was daddy, sitting in the chair as if he were reading the paper, or maybe watching a boxing match.

"Did you know I was coming?" I asked.

"Yes," he said as he flashed me an all-knowing smile. That made me feel good.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

The realization that I was talking to daddy, my father, who had been deceased for years, just told me he missed me. I didn't think you could miss your loved ones in heaven like you could on earth. I thought about my brothers that were still on earth; my friends; Fonzie, especially Fonzie; Chachi, my beloved husband; my mother. Oh my goodness, my mother! The memory of my last kiss flooded back as I realized it was my mother who kissed me goodbye. Why did my mother have to be the one to kiss me goodbye. My mind cluttered and I could no longer think straight. I began to pray that my mother had joined me. Of all the people I had loved and left behind, she was the one I felt most sorry for leaving.

"Is mom here?" I asked my father through my tears.

"No."

His answer was matter-of-fact; not warm not cold but just as is. I finally realized what I had done and I began to sob. I'll never understand why I outlived my mother. She didn't deserve to watch me suffer and then watch me die. I was her baby, her only girl, and I was the child she had to let go. I could barely stand to watch my father walk over to me and feel him put his arms around me.

"Your mother will be home soon, Joanie," he tells me so sincerely that a small feeling of peace comes back to me. Then again, it was always my father's way.

"I shouldn't be here, daddy."

"It's your time, sweetheart," he tells me with a kiss. "It's just your time. Your mother understands why you had to go."

"How do you know?"

"Because she's your mother," he said as he pulled away from me to look at me. "You're okay, Joanie. You're mother's okay, Joanie. You'll see her again. Time doesn't work in heaven like on earth."

"You said you missed me, though."

"Missing someone has nothing to do with time."

"So how do I deal with this?"

"You send light and love to your mother. She'll get it. You got it."

"I got it? How?"

"Think about it, Joanie."

I racked my brain trying to figure that out. I remember the day of his funeral that I saw a cardinal fly on his coffin before burial and fly away. I remember the days afterwards where I could be running errands or in the laundry room and I would find a random penny or two. I would go for walks with Chachi and I sometimes would notice little yellow butterflies following us. I got it now...

"I got it now," I said out loud.

"I knew that you would," daddy replied with the sweet smile of his. I gave his cheek a kiss and he kissed mine back.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, sweetheart. Welcome home."