Writing Madeline Part 3

Margaret showed up to join the telling of the women in her family. Madeline's older sister who died in her parents arms at the age of three. This is what she said to me:

I fill in spaces.

Some light and some dark, the faces of being.

Angel and spook, evil and good.

Maybe it is jarring to you,

"not right at all" you say,

to think of a dead little girl as evil.

Like being possessed.

It's not really that way.

How do I explain.

It is the place in between where I exist.

For Mummy and Daddy on their darkest day,

I fill in the great chasm

to the sunshine that feels to them

so awfully far away.

My presence holds sway.

Whispers them nearer,

'til they can see the light again,

and leap toward it's warmth.

If they pause in between,

keep very still

I am present with them, one being.

Pure love.

Time stops and we are together again.