I saw her again. Two months after her death.
Not in a dream, not in a hallucination.
I saw her.
But he wouldn't believe me.
Everything that day was fading to the pale pastels of my childhood. I was out in my backyard, playing, blowing bubbles, letting them drift, and then watching them as they burst into the nothingness without so much as a splash.
With my eyes staring into the bubble that I had just created, I saw her standing without shock. She hummed a little, I think "Ma Vie en Rose" and she twirled once in her sky blue dress before curtsying deeply like the ballerina she had always wanted to be.
And then she smiled. She blew a kiss.
And she waved. She waved goodbye.
And the bubble burst into the light.