Justen came to. He saw people passing by, stopping briefly, but with strong emotion over his mother’s body, which had been reposed on a makeshift bier. Her hands folded peacefully over her heart. Someone had draped her in a purple robe! A beautiful garment! As if somebody had suddenly remembered a long unused, but perfectly good piece of clothing, suddenly suitable.
Mom had been set on a bed of furs! Some were a bit ratty, some seemed new. Various necklaces and medallions had been placed about her, colorful, but somber, again as if someone had just remembered a disused, but “suitable” piece.
Most amazing was mom’s face! She was beatific, glowing with a beauty he’d not seen during her hard life.
The homeless, the little old ladies in quaint dresses, the Korean grocer and his sometimes antagostic customers, and more came in, shook hands, smiled warmly but sadly, , hugged.
What is this, thought Justen?
The mysterious figure spoke: “We are one in Spirit right now. Not for long. Then life goes on. See?”