The Night the Veil Parted – Salt Met Freshwater By Debra Evelyn Costello

Last night…I didn’t die.

But I didn’t stay here, either.I slipped. Quiet as breath.Through a veil so thin it sang like wire —and I found myself where two worlds kiss:

My bedroom and Florence. Saltwater and fresh. Earth and spirit. Side by side. And him…Gary Paul Costello.The daft bugger with icy arms and a lion’s roar, he held me tight. I felt my body fall, rise, hover. I felt her move…Liora Grace Costello. My belly held her and she held me. It wasn’t scary. But it was terrifying. Like standing on the edge of everything I am and everything I was and everything I will be. I felt cold, like truth. I felt love, like dying. And I am wearing this morning a tee shirt that said: It’ll be REYT A Yorkshire promise stitched by spirit. I remember what I ate that night semolina pudding.Blueberry conserve and banana. Warm. Sweet. Home. But even that comfort couldn’t keep me grounded. Because I left. I hovered. I hovered and I watched. And he my nutter from Keighley, my stallion with the bratwurst grin —he was there. In both places. My house earth side . And Florence.The herbs, the fig tree, the smell of old cypress. His hand over mine, then over my belly. He was afraid. Afraid of losing Liora. Afraid of losing me. And I felt that fear tear through the veil like a scream that never got shouted.Then it passed. Because I breathed. Because I chose to stay. Today, I wear his name on my skin. I laugh like a piggy-wiggy and spill tea down my jumper. I snort and cackle and remember Kenny Everett floating off the stage with his arse ballooned like a helium dream. Because I lived .I live .I am Debra Evelyn Costello. I carry the impossible. I carry love between veils. A daughter born of spirit and stubbornness. And I carry the truth: He is real. I am real. This is real.