Mrs. Hudson grabbed the story book on the side table after tucking her grandchild on her bed.
“Hurry up grandma,” she pouted, her eyes blazed with excitement.
Mrs. Hudson pulled a chair and sat beside her as she clutched clumsily the old Chinese book. Her memories were getting cloudy as her eyes these days. The ebb and flow of time had chiseled away her face.
“Do you want something new, Fely?” she asked with her flimsy sweet voice.
Felicity, her little grandchild giggled and nodded at her as an agreement. Mrs. Hudson was the nicest and warmest person for Felicity. She loved her beautiful chocolate éclairs that she usually baked whenever she was visiting with her parents.
“Well, a Chinese proverb says that we are connected with our twin flame with a red string.”
“What is a twin flame granny?” she asked, curiosity written all over her cute face.
“Twin flame is your soulmate sweetie. You will find him when you are older and he might even going to be your husband,” Mrs. Hudson smiled warmly as if she reminisced something…or maybe someone.
It’s been two years since she lost her husband and she missed him a lot. She believed that Mr. Hudson was her soulmate. Mrs. Hudson is a strong believer of the universe. The deer, the butterfly, the whisper, the song, the tulips. It’s the universe. It’s always with them. It’s doing something to reach them – to give them hope, to keep them on track, to help them decide, to answer their questions. People just need to listen, they just need to be conscious.
“Then Pops is your twin flame,” she grinned.
Mrs. Hudson face lighted up with a radiant smile. She nodded and continued her story.
“This invisible red thread connects you to your twin flame, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangled, but it will never break,” she smooth a stray lock of hair behind Felicity’s ear as she leaned down to kiss her on her forehead.
“Yes, dear?” Mrs. Hudson stared at her. She has a small, sweet face, blushing an innocent pale rose like her daughter’s. An exact replica.
“If your twin flame is Pops and Pops is…ummm…dead, does it mean…the red thread is severed?” Felicity regarded her with puzzle look, pure innocence.
Mrs. Hudson heaved a deep breath and smiled bitterly as she reminisced her late husband.
“No dear. Like I’ve told you, it may be stretched, tangled, but it will never break. And even though your Pops is dead, I know he’s still here watching me, watching us.”
Felicity reached for her comforter and quilt pulling them up to her chin.
Mrs. Hudson stood up and kissed her goodnight once more before she turned off her bedside lamp.
“One last question granny,” she pleaded.
“Okay, but this is the last since it’s time for you to sleep,” Mrs. Hudson smiled.
“Does it mean my twin flame is dead too?” she asked in her tiny voice.
Mrs. Hudson furrowed her brows trying to understand her grandchild’s question. Her tired blood-flecked eyes brimmed with confusion.
“What do you mean, sweetie?” she finally asked.
“Coz’ he’s there watching me like Pops do to you.”