February 4, 2026 #aftercrossingover

I was dead asleep. No pun intended.

Face in the pillow. On my stomach. Out cold.

When I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I groaned and cracked one eye open.

Coco was sitting beside me, completely unbothered, and barely lifting an eyelid.

I closed my eyes again.

Nope.

Tap. Tap.

I sighed and rolled over.

And there they were.

All of them.

Standing around my bed like it was a group project I forgot about.

Were you sleeping? Catalina asked.

Obviously, I muttered.

Joe looked relieved. Good. We didn’t want to interrupt.

Donna blinked. We absolutely interrupted.

Sally crossed her arms. Darling, we were checking your status. Continue.

Lionel smiled gently. You looked peaceful.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

Okay. I have had weird dreams lately. And since you’re all here…

They leaned in.
Literally.
Even Coco seemed curious.

I’ve been thinking, I said. What surprised you the most… after you crossed over?

Silence.

Not awkward.

Sacred.

Joe spoke first.

He cleared his throat.

I didn’t think I believed in God, he said quietly. Not really. I believed in… her.

He glanced at Donna.

She was my faith. She prayed. She trusted. She saw God in everything. So I kind of… borrowed it.

Donna’s eyes softened.

Joe continued.

When we divorced… it felt like God left too. Like I lost both at once. I thought… okay. Guess I’m on my own now.

He swallowed.

Then I got here. And it was like… God never left. I just stopped looking.

Donna let out a small breath.

You were never alone, she said softly.

Joe nodded.

I know now.

Catalina wiped her eyes dramatically.

Okay, why am I now sad in these furry pajamas. I’m not supposed to be sad while wearing furry pajamas.

Lionel chuckled.

I was surprised that love didn’t shrink, he said. I thought death would make it smaller. It made it infinite.

Sally sniffed.

I was surprised God wasn’t louder, she admitted. Turns out, He whispers. Very inconvenient.

Donna smiled.

I was surprised I forgave myself, she said. Instantly. Like it was never in question.

Catalina thought.

I was surprised I still cared so much, she said. About people. About dogs. About everything.

Coco purred.

Sally rolled her eyes.

He thinks he’s holy now.

I sat there, wrapped in blankets, heart full.

Thank you, I whispered.

No one moved.
No one faded.
No one rushed off.

The sky outside shifted — soft pink to gold.

Morning arriving quietly.

Joe leaned back in a chair.

Donna rested her head against his shoulder.

Catalina sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, hugging her dog.

Lionel closed his eyes, breathing it in.

Sally, for once, said nothing.

We just watched.

Together.

The sun rose.
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And for a moment, everything felt exactly where it belonged.
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