The Signal

"Don't forget to signal!" We'd call to my mother as she left our room and headed downstairs each night.

Outside of the low south window of our bedroom we could see the yard light, glowing in the darkness and illuminating the farm. It was a constant beacon of comfort in the midst of a shadowed country night. After baths and stories, my mother would kiss us softly on the cheek and leave our room as we called after her to "signal".

As she descended the stairway she would say, "I'll see you in my dreams". Many times we would ask her what she would be wearing and she would describe a favorite dress from her limited wardrobe. And then, leaning up in our beds we would watch and wait until the yard light flickered on and off: once, twice...three times. And snuggling deep beneath the covers we would contently drift off to sleep in the comfort of Mother's goodnight message: "I - Love - You".