I Wasn’t There

To say I wasn’t there would be misleading. Because I was.

They had looked for me everywhere. At the top of the mountain, whispering into the clouds. At its base, entangled with brambles. In the clear mountain spring, where the deer and antelopes bathed.

But no one ever thinks to look up when looking for something—in my case looking for someone.  They found me atop a tree embraced by its leafy limbs. As if asleep. When the bough breaks, the baby will fall, they said. But the bough didn’t break.

Everyone knew I had gone to the place I called Mount Yonder, my favorite place in the whole world. It was a 2-hour hike to the peak and two hours down. Far from strenuous, the trail gently wove through asters, pines, and deciduous trees, which on the day of my stroll were bursting with autumnal glory.

At the peak was a flat rock where I always enjoyed a light lunch. Usually a crispy apple, sharp cheese, crusty bread, and cold water.

It wasn’t the highest, steepest, or most austere vantage point in the world. But from there, I could see eternity, if I squinted my eyes in just the right way.

I must have squinted my eyes in just the right way. For there, I died. I didn’t trip, jump, or fall. I had no blatant deformities or hidden cancers My heart simply gave out on a rocky summit, surrounded by the drop-dead beauty of the landscape I loved. Standing on the precipice of infinity, surrounded by nature, with my feet planted on the Earth and my head in the sky, I surrendered.

They say my body must have drifted down into the tree cover.

So, I wasn’t there for my farewell party, though, in a way, I was.  My body, anyway. And everyone had gathered to view it. They told funny stories, a few sad ones, and commented on my appearance.

“Doesn’t she look good?”

“She has that smile about her, doesn’t she?

“That’s the dress she wore it to my daughter’s wedding.”

“That’s the dress she wore to her own wedding!”

While the women prattled in hushed dialogues, interspersed with tissue dabs to the eyes, a friend—a man—simply smiled and shook his head.

“She’s not here.”

He was right. I wasn’t. I had reverted to my essence and regained my immortality. I had crossed over to the Otherworld, where I could participate in the grief of the people who loved me yet revel with those who knew.

I wasn’t there.