After seeing the play she said she helped write, I became even more convinced that my sister Coral had a zany sense of humor despite her years of work in the Children's Paradise taking care of the children gone to the hereafter before their time. The spirits were so light, that what they said and did had to be a great deal lighter in weight than such events would have been on earth. Our events on earth had been in keeping with our heavy bodies we had to lug about, growing heavier every year. Now as a spirit I was so lightweight I could hardly get used to myself, considering that I had been too heavy for years.
Then I thought to go see a new play written by an actor friend that my son Jerome had been directing on earth. I slipped into the theater, accordingly, and spent two hours seeing a rather long winded but compelling piece of work, done earth style. Oh how I wished as I was watching it that I was still back on earth and that Jerome was agreeing to do one of my plays. Instead I had had to die and go to the hereafter to have any hope of anyone doing another of my plays. I felt the tears come as I watched in the shadows, Jerome unaware that I was even there, but then I happened to remember that he possessed copies of all my plays. Maybe one day he would do a production in honor of his playwright mother.
But it just wasn't the same thing, not the same thing at all. I sat and cried for all I had lost. No more Jerome in the hereafter to talk about theater with. He was one place and I was another. Oh why hadn't we realized that time was of the essence and we had to do whatever we were going to do together, it could not wait. I wanted Jerome produce my play on earth just as he was producing his friend's play.
Afterwards I went into the cafe where Jerome and his friend were having coffee, talking about tonight's performance.
"I was just thinking," I heard Jerome say, "that I wish I had done another one of Mom's play before she died, too. It is not going to be the same thing doing one without her here to be excited and cheer me on."
"We never know when we are going to lose our mothers," said his friend Chase. "My mother is still alive but she is getting way up there. She can't possibly last much longer."
"I am glad I decided to come back and start a theater company here," said Jerome, "but I just wish I had done it before Mom died. The next time I see her in a theater will be in heaven." And he began to cry. "I am sorry, Chase, but we were so close, I did not realize how close. She always encouraged me to be an actor, a playwright, a director. She always thought I could do it."
Chase patted him gently on the shoulder. "It is too bad we don't get second chances," he said.
After they were gone I just sat there, too sad to move. I looked up and Jimmy (James Dean) was looking across the room at me. He walked over and sat down. "You mustn't let yourself be filled with too many regrets. You had a good run. You accomplished a lot in the years you worked with Jerome. All good times have to come to some kind of end, but you are here now, and I am going to do one of your plays. You will see. We will have good times, and it won't be many years until Jerome joins you and you can have a great reunion in heaven."
"I know," I said. "I am just thankful that Jerome did not die in the fire that consumed his apartment. He was lucky, but he has some good years left in him to struggle on this earth. I knew I had lived out my time. But I guess you always wish for just one more good time together with those you love."
"Yes, always. Do you realize how many regrets you have when you die young? You are old. It was a good time for you to die. Past eighty. Come on, you had a hell of a run, Shadow!"
He held out his arms to me and I got up and came into them so he could give me a hug. I needed it. We got up and walked slowly out the door. I had seen two plays in two days, one in the hereafter and one here. What next?