Next Time it Rains

I received good news
Really good news
Balloon-releasing
Jump-up-and-down news
I was cured of hepatitis C!
I had told my mom
Of the preliminary results
Months before --
The chances-are-I'm-cured news
She had cried happy tears
Expressing her joy
But this was final
The treatment had worked
The virus was gone
My blood was clean
As though I never was infected

I wanted to call her
But her funeral was just days before
She was no longer here
A friend said
Talk to her anyway
It will seem as though
She hears

I did
I picked up the phone
And dialed her number
Three tones
A woman's voice
The number you have dialed
Is no longer in service
Please check the number
And dial again
Over and over she said
The same words
As though I hadn't heard
Them the first time
Or the second

Above the recording
I spoke
My sobs chopping the words
Into pieces
Hi, Mom.  I just wanted to tell you
Some Very Good News
The final results are in
I have been declared CURED!
I knew you'd be happy about it
So just had to tell you
I'm talking as though
You can hear me
And I hope you can
Thank you for being happy for me
I spoke as though she heard

It was a sunny day
But to myself I said
Next time it rains
It will be as though
She got the news
And is shedding happy tears
From heaven
Next time it rains
It will be as though
She got the news
It will be as though
I'll know

Diane Mann 2015

Temporary Winner

Separation hurts
death stings
and plays the victor
like a big show-off

There is Life
beyond death
the gap is but a veil
one day to be lifted

Silencing the bully
for good.


Diane Mann, 2015

Glimpse

     In 2010 a dear friend who is also a court reporter sat down with me and my mom, and we interviewed her, recording stories of her life.  One memory she shared was my parents'  having international students from our church to their home twice a year.  She said in the summer over 100 people would gather in their home and back yard for homemade ice cream.  But, she said, in December everyone would have to be inside, so they had only 60 over for dinner -- emphasis on the words 

"only 60"!  

     My mom was a gatherer of people -- and a party animal.  The past few years she invited friends over for themed parties.  For example, she gave a chocolate-themed party, where the film "Chocolat" was shown,  followed by a Bible lesson about grace.  A luscious dessert was shared while everyone sat at a table decorated in all things chocolate.  Each guest went home with chocolate cake mixes, frosting and wooden spoons as a party gift.  Before she died, she was planning a "Frozen" party and was quite excited about it.

     One day in February I stopped by her home while she was preparing for a "Breakfast at Tiffany's" party.  I was taken to see the joy and focus my mom had as she set her beautiful table.  It was a holy moment as I looked on, observing her living from who and how God made her to be.  I took this picture when I was there.

     "Mom," I said,  "surely you will be a table setter in heaven!"  And I've thought since then that she can't visit sick people in heaven, as she loved to do, so surely this will be one way she serves God there.

     This past week, living through the shock and pain of my mom's death, I've realized just like life is the opposite of death, gathering is the opposite of separation.  For now we are separated from the ones we so deeply love who have died.  But one day we will be called to gather at a huge feast given by Jesus, around a table where there's room for everyone.  We will look at each other across the table with no defenses, no grudges, no tears, no pain -- only joy, food and drink, a time where we will be truly free to give love as generously as God gives it to us.

And if there is sparkly confetti on the table, I'm pretty sure God let my mom put it there.

Diane Mann

October, 2015  

Meadow Goodness

What is it about a mountain meadow?
Is it its spaciousness
Sent out like an invitation
For the weary to rest
For cluttered minds
To have worries dance away
Upon the breeze?
Is it the way surrounding cliffs
Become strong arms embracing
And soft soils
Become God's lap
In which to nestle?

Or is it the gathering of flowers
Like friends old and new
Many whose names I recall
Others I've inquired of
But soon forgot
Like church people I have greeted
Week after week
We've exchanged stories
About our lives
Cheered one another on
It would seem silly now to ask
"What's your name?"
Too much has been shared
So we just keep visiting anyway

The purple grasses
Responding to the wind's caresses
Delight my eyes
Tickle my hopes
Wide sky tears open
The curtain of my soul
Beyond which lie
Dreams forgotten
But still alive
Still
Now
Very much alive

A granite boulder
Like a custom piece of furniture
Saying, "I was made just for you!"
Beckons me off the trail
Against it I lean
Into this moment
With abandon
My mind not comprehending
And ceasing to try
Perhaps its glory
Is not for me to understand
I conclude
But to stand under

Body reclined
Heart inclined
I rest
Here
Sinking into the goodness of the meadow
While the goodness of the meadow
Sinks into me.

Diane Mann, 2015