“I want to make sure you’re okay,” she said after they released me from the hospital. “You’re my family.”
So I did.
But eighty-five years on this earth meant that my health wasn’t what it used to be. My knees hurt, my back even more, and I had trouble breathing every few hours. She knew all of this, and she made it her mission to visit me at least two times per week.
I wasn’t going to get into the numerous phone calls she made during the week when she wasn’t here with me.
Maybe they didn’t feel like driving?She sent me to bed before they left, promising she would clean up the table, but maybe they stayed.
Yet, when I opened my eyes, it wasn’t the darkness of my room that greeted me.
Warm, white light almost blinded me, and I closed my eyes, trying to adjust to the invasion. I slowly opened them up again, squinting against the light, and when I finally adjusted, I realized that I wasn’t in my room at all.
And it wasn’t ordinary light blinding me—it was the sun.
I slowly pulled myself up, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me.
A meadow was in front of me—a meadow I knew very well—and when I turned around, the breath I was about to take got stuck in my lungs, rendering me speechless.
A weeping willow stood proudly in front of the pond where I fell in love with her—with Sophie. On shaky legs, I pulled myself up and when I looked at my hands, they weren’t wrinkly and old anymore.
“What the fuck?”
Birds sang somewhere in the distance, while my mind tried to comprehend what was happening. I haven’t had a dream like this one in a very long time.
I looked to my right, then to my left, trying to see if anybody else was here, but there was nothing. Crickets chirped and I ran toward the pond, the morning mist on the grass caressing my bare feet.
“What in the fucking—” I stared at myself in the water, but it wasn’t me. At least it wasn’t me anymore.
Like looking at an old picture, eighteen-year-old me stared back through the reflection. There were no wrinkles, no gray hair or slumped posture—I looked the same as I did so many years ago.
I pinched myself, trying to wake up from this dream, but I still stayed rooted to the same spot. I tried closing and opening my eyes, but nothing worked.
“Wake up, Noah. Wake the fuck up.”
When my eyes opened for the last time, a silhouette walking toward me from the direction of the weeping willow caught my attention.
“No.” I shook my head. “It can’t be.”
“Hello, Noah.”
Her voice sounded the same. Her face still looked the same even after so many years. She was still standing there, right in front of me. An angel and a nightmare, because no matter what, I knew I would have to wake up from this.
“Sophie.” Her name was like a prayer on my lips. Her smile illuminated her entire face, and as I took a step forward, I suddenly stopped myself. “Is this a dream?” I asked her. “Because if it is, I don’t want to wake up.”
She shook her head. “No.” Closing the distance between the two of us before I could, she kept on smiling as if this wouldn’t break my heart all over again. “This isn’t a dream.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re a figment of my imagination, and I wouldn’t want to hurt myself.”
“Always the cynic, aren’t you?” She took my hands in hers. “This is not a dream, darling.”
“Then how is this possible?”
She kept looking at me, those eyes that always saw more than I sometimes wanted them to see, staring straight to my soul. “What do you think, Noah? How would it be possible for you to see me?”
And it dawned on me. “Am I… Am I dead?”
“I’m sorry, darling.”
