All Sales Final

Millie opened her eyes to a soft, diffused light. She couldn't remember falling asleep, yet here she was, waking up in a place both familiar and strange. She felt lighter somehow, as if gravity had loosened its grip just enough to notice.

"Hello, Millie."

That voice. She knew that voice. Millie turned toward the sound and there he was—Alfred, her Alfred, looking exactly as he had on their wedding day fifty-two years ago. The lines of age had smoothed from his face, his back straight again, his eyes clear and bright with the same mischievous twinkle she had fallen in love with all those decades ago.

"Alfred?" Her voice trembled. "Is it really you?"

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way she had always adored. "It's me, Millie-girl."

Her hand reached out, half-expecting him to dissolve like mist, but his fingers intertwined with hers, warm and solid. "Then I'm..."

"Yes," he said gently. "You died peacefully in your sleep last night."

Millie looked down at her hands—no longer spotted with age, no longer bent with arthritis. She was young again too, she realized, restored to her prime just like Alfred.

"Is this heaven?" she asked, looking around at the pastoral landscape that seemed to shift subtly when she wasn't looking directly at it.

Alfred smiled. "Not exactly. The human concept of heaven gets some things right but misses others. This is more of a... waystation. We stay here until we're ready to move on to what comes next."

"And what comes next?"

"I don't know yet," Alfred admitted. "No one does until they're ready.”

“Ready?” she asked.

“To be ready, you have to let go of your last attachments to your earthly life."

Millie frowned. "But I don't have any attachments left. Everyone I loved is gone. My house was just a house. My possessions were just things."

Alfred's expression softened with understanding. "It's not always what we love that holds us back, Millie. Sometimes it's what we regret, what we fear, what we never resolved."

He guided her to a bench that appeared beneath a blooming cherry tree. "Do you remember the day your sister died?"

Millie stiffened. "Sarah? The accident?"

"The accident you've blamed yourself for all these years," Alfred said quietly.

“I did not,” Millie argued.

“It made you physically ill every time it came up,” Alfred insisted.

“What’s your point?”

“No point,” he shrugged. "And our marriage?"

"What? We loved each other," she protested.

"We did," Alfred agreed. "But love isn't always enough, is it? We both know there were years of silence between us, hurts we never addressed, dreams we let die."

Tears welled in Millie's eyes. "You were so distant after the war."

"I was a disappointment to you.”

“Of course not!” she protested.

“It’s true and we both know it. I carried the horror I’d seen over there into our marriage and into our family. I did the basics, but not much more.”

“I loved you anyway.”

“I know you did.”

“I suppose I was disappointed with life before I even met you. I never completely forgave my mother for dying when I was eight.”

"Your father did his best, but he was broken by grief," Alfred said. "And you were too young to understand, too young to process that kind of loss."

“How can I possibly let go of these things?” She straightened her back. “They defined my life.”

“You let them define your life. They defined who you were. But now you’re free of them. Free to define who you want to be. Now.”

“Look at you. You’re still here. What are you hanging onto?” she challenged him.

“Why, you, of course.”

Millie was quiet for a long moment. "The only constant I ever had was my faith," she said finally. "The Divine Mother was always with me, in all kinds of incarnations, even when no one else was."

"Yes," Alfred smiled. "She was."

Millie stood up, wiping away tears. "So, I need to let go of them?”

"If you want to move forward, yes," Alfred said. “You can keep them if you like and stay here for a while. This isn’t such a bad place.”

As Millie considered this, a table appeared with four items spaced neatly apart.

The first item was a baby doll.  She recognized it immediately of course.  It was the doll her sister had been carrying the day she died.  Even now, more than 50 years later, the memory still brought tears to her eyes.  Yes, she had carried this one a good long time.  She wondered if she would ever be done with it.

The next item was a music box featuring a smiling bride and groom on the top that spun around as it played. Her own marriage was wrapped up in this but there was something else too.  Her heart had ached for her son to find someone to settle down with.  She had watched as his heart was broken after each relationship and she longed for the perfect partner for him.   

She moved on to the next item, a family photo taken when her sister was still alive. She knew this attachment was about her mother.  As irrational as it sounds, especially at this moment, Millie had held a lifelong resentment against her mother for dying when she was eight.  She had blamed her sister’s death on her mother’s absence even though she knew better. Still, if her mother hadn’t died, she would not have been looking after her sister that day.

The last item in the pile was Millie’s old prayer book, filled with songs and stories from all cultures celebrating the Divine Feminine.  It had brought Millie great joy and peace in her physical lifetime.  This one she didn’t understand. 

“This one too?”  She asked Alfred.

“Yes, that one too,” he replied.  He knew how much it had meant to her.  “You must let go of all attachments, good and bad.” 

Millie nodded her head. “I understand,” she said. “How can I get rid of them?”

“Any way you want.”

Millie looked at the items again. She thought about them for a moment and a broad smile came to her face.  With a twinkle in her eye she asked, “Can I give them to someone else?” 

Alfred knew this look.  After all, they had been married 52 years. It meant she was up to something.

“To what purpose?” he asked. 

“To help others while I am helping myself.”

Alfred pondered this possibility.  “Okay Millie-girl, tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He began to smile, wondering what plan she was cooking up.

Millie thought for a moment, then a small smile tugged at her lips. "I know exactly what to do. I’m going to have a yard sale."