A gasp. A long series of tones.

Only the granddaughter doesn’t cry. “She talked to angels, you know.”

“Jilly, don’t start that again. Gram was in a lot of pain.”

“No, Mom. She talked to angels. I think they talked to her, too.”

. . . . . . . .

Gram smiled, looked at Michael and said, “That’s my Jilly. Talk to her, won’t you? Give her strength?”

Michael cupped his hand over Jilly’s heart, nodding when the girl’s lips turned upwards.

He escorted Gram away, leaving the family in the light of Jilly’s new smile.

“Thanks, Gram. Guess it’s my turn to talk to angels now.”

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Lance challenged us this week with She Talks to Angels by Black Crowes.

I’d like to think that our spirit lives on in our families – the ability to talk to angels being one of those sweet rewards. Yeah, I know the theology is off, but there ya go.