The dead leaves in the tree
I heard them rustling in the wind before my eyes could fall upon the source of the noise. Searching my eyes darted from the ground, beside me to above me and there they were. High in the tree were the dead leaves that still clung to the branches of the tree. It was mid-January cold, overcast and windy. I looked at the other trees standing naked, grey and without a trace of a leaf left on their branches. The leaves were brown and from the sound they made dried and crumpled. I thought to myself their dead and yet they still make an audible sound. Even in death we still leave behind a sound.
After we have died will our lives continue to make an audible sound in the people we have known and loved? I feel the love and nurturing of my Grandmother in law, Gen when I talk to my children about talking to her in heaven. I hear the sound of Mary Ann working in her garden when I walk past it in the afternoons to get my children. I hear the laughter of my Uncle Donnie when I am preparing dinner at his house for my Aunt as she gives my children piano lessons. They have each died but their voices, lessons and love continue on in my life.
If we have truly lived our lives with love then we too will be heard after our death.
