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JJ Kingston is a very unique young lady with an unusual gift. |
Mama’s sister, Maddison Lee Daily, arrived at the hospital just as I was crawling into bed with mama, but I never saw her until a little later. She stood at the doorway and watched, serenely, as the final moments of mama’s life passed rapidly in front of her. She told me later that she didn’t want to interrupt us because I deserved her final goodbye. But, as the heart monitors blinked and flatlined in bright flashes of color and waves of maddeningly loud tones, Maddy ran to my side. Aunt Maddy, as she was known to me, was mama’s identical twin sister and pretty much the only living relative I had left in my life. Since she was married to her job, had no children or husband, or a man in her life at all, she doted on me whenever she had the chance. When mama’s cancer journey began, she quickly found an attorney and contacted her sister to make sure I would have a home, if, and when she had to leave this earth, and me, behind. Mama had planned it all very well. When daddy died, she had received insurance money and was able to pay off the house and her car, and apparently there had been enough money for her to live on as well as a sum of money that was left to me for college. I don’t know what daddy did for a living, I was too young to know where he went when he left the house every morning, but whatever he did, he managed to provide a nice life for mama and I after he died. My wonderful daddy had taken care of her until his last breath and mama made sure she did the same for me. The house, car and all other assets were left to me, and Aunt Maddy was the executor of the estate. Maddy would be my guardian and would receive money from a trust every month to help pay for my needs. Aside from the money, mama and Maddy had agreed that the loss of both my parents at such a young age would be extremely hard on me, so in order to keep from adding additional pain and stress to my young heart, they were going to keep everything else as normal and stable for me as possible. On the very day that Melody Ann (Daily) Kingston took her last breath, Maddy took me back to the only home I had ever known. I was still sobbing as she carried me into the house and to my room where she sat me down and helped me change into my pj’s. Then she crawled into bed with me and held me while we cried ourselves to sleep at 2 in the afternoon. Neither one of us had to say a thing, we had both lost our one and only real person in this world. For Maddy it was her twin, her other half, the person she shared a womb with before birth and an entire lifetime of love since then. Melody had been her whole world until I came along and when I did, Maddy loved me as her own from that moment on. She had always shared everything with her sister, and now I was to be hers to raise. I’m certain it terrified her, though she never showed it. I woke in my bed a few hours after falling asleep. My belly growled noisily, and I looked at the little pink alarm clock next to my bed to see that it was 6:42 pm. In my head I was thinking of Winnie the Pooh and having a “rumbly in my tumbly”. I slipped out of bed and wandered sleepily from my room, searching for my aunt. She was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water sat on the hard surface in front of her and she was on her cell phone. “…at any rate, I’m going to take a few weeks off to get my sister’s affairs in order, make arrangements for her funeral and all, and I’ve got to sell my house now. I’m going to live in Mel’s house with my niece. Mel and I thought it would be best, under the circumstances.” She must’ve heard me coming down the hallway because she turned and glanced at me, then said, “JJ’s awake now. I’m sure she’s hungry. Let me talk to you later.” She said her goodbyes then set the tiny, blue phone down on the table and looked back at me, holding her arms out for me. Her embrace warmed me when I reached her and tucked myself into her arms. She looked so much like mama, it was like she had never left. It would be weird getting used to having Maddy here and not mama since she had the same face, same eyes, same hair…. An exact replica, a replacement model, that is. New and improved, cancer free. But she was different. She wasn’t mama. As much as I loved Aunt Maddy, it was not ever going to be the same. “Are you hungry,” she asked sweetly. “I’m sure it’s been ages since you’ve eaten.” I nodded quietly. She got up, chatting away as she started making grilled cheese sandwiches. I was still half asleep and not really listening as I was thinking about mama. It was going to be a whole new world now that mama was gone. As much as they tried to keep it all the same, it was still going to be different, and we both knew it. Her chatter was just that, gabbing to fill the emptiness inside. Chatter to fill a void, to shape the form of the awkwardness we both felt because our person was missing. At least we were grieving together, and we had each other. But it was still awkward having her here, without mama, knowing that mama wasn’t ever going to come back to this house or sleep in her bed. I sat in silence, dipping small triangles of my sandwich into rich, red tomato froth before devouring it. It didn’t take long for me to finish my meal; I was so hungry. I had forgotten that I hadn’t eaten since earlier that day when a kind nurse had given me a meal at the hospital. That night, I laid wide awake in my bed clutching Madeline and thinking of the prayer mama and daddy taught me when I was little. Now I lay me, down to sleep. Sleep. What sleep? I’m laying here, wide awake. And when I do close my eyes, I have to try and stop myself from dream jumping or risk that someone will find out who I am. Now I lay me, down to sleep. I pray the Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die, before I wake. I pray the Lord, my soul to take. And what if I should die before I wake? Would Maddy know what happened? Would some doctor write it off as a kind of unknown children’s death? Like SIDS, but for 8 year-old’s? And, if I died at the hands of this group of people that doesn’t want me to live just because I can go anywhere I want in the world when I close my eyes, would Aunt Maddy know? Would a doctor know? If someone strangled me, or shot me, would those wounds show up on my body when it appeared back in my bed? Would my body even appear back in its bed if I were killed? Daddy didn’t go missing when he died in his sleep, and neither did granny or pop-pop, or I would’ve known something about it. Maybe indirectly, but I would’ve heard something, would’ve picked up on some weird story about one or more of them disappearing and never coming back; or being found somewhere. Wouldn’t I? Surely, I would. I’m an old soul, wise beyond my years, right? Wouldn’t I have known; wouldn’t I have caught on to that? Why would I know that? I was 3 when daddy passed away. Would I have remembered anything from that time? I toss and turn in my bed, throwing the covers off, pulling them back on. Flopping around like I have ants on my legs, unable to shut my head down for the night. Unable to rest. Caught in this stream of wondering and thinking and debating with myself. What happens to us, to dream jumpers when we die? Daddy was buried in Mount Washington Cemetery in Independence, Missouri. Whenever we drive through the landscaped old cemetery to visit his grave, I wonder at all the old mausoleums and crypts along the waving hillside of this massive burial ground. The graveyard itself must be sitting on dozens of acres of land. It’s so big it’s like its own little village of graves nestled among foliage and the twists and turns in the road. It takes 20 minutes to get to daddy’s grave once we enter the premises and it took 5 visits to his site before I memorized those turns to get to him on my own. Is his body still there? Do our bodies stay firmly in place once we die, or because we’re dream jumpers, do we possibly jump to another place? Another time or place? Another dimension? Do we go to heaven? Does the Lord keep our soul? Does he claim us as his children? I’m a normal human being, right? Not some weird creature that was created by something else, but human enough that God would feel in demand of my soul should I die? So many questions. All from a children’s prayer. I have prayers of my own, though. Now I lay me, down to sleep. I pray the Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die, before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul to take. And if you can, Dear Lord, I pray Keep my mama, with you, safe. Keep my granny and pop-pop, too. Keep them safely in heaven, with you. Hold them all, and daddy, tight, This I pray to you, tonight. And if you, should, so wish I pray to beg, and ask you this: Send my family, as angels, for me To watch over and guide, for Thee. |