Who is there?

.

.

It's a she, but... not... necessarily human.

Mother?  No, not you.  Or, I should say, not... that mother.  Though... a sister?  aunt?  Again, not ones of... flesh.  Ones of my kind.  She says, accuses, suggests.  I see what is being... shown.  I feel some shame.  But, I know grace, and have let what is wrong go.  Still... what is, is.

Perhaps, beside seeing and saying, she speaks through the voice of another?  A woman who knew me well?  Lost in time, maybe even no more.  Of flesh.  Death is not the end.  Though, if I must suspect, if this would be mother through her?  She isn't in hell.  Odd.  May seem as such, but... walking to God, through the shadows, is... an odd place.  God is patient.

Just... some very strange pops.  Made me... wonder, about a few things.

There was a time... when we had no hope.

I like to think this isn't the way of these times.  But I do remember.