“I used to write, you know?” Tears well in my eyes as I hear the sound of the most beautiful voice speak…my mother’s. “There was so much sadness in my life, but nobody suspected. Miss happy. That was my nickname.” She lets out an audible sigh. “No one knew that with every smile there was a tear.”
Her words come out softly, almost a mumble on her fragile lips. “I was the oldest and I had to be in charge…I needed to be good, I needed to succeed, I needed to help, and I needed to take care of the others. I wanted to be free, and I couldn’t be because I was in charge, in control. I needed to be…perfect. So, I wrote and I felt free when I did.”
I stare at my mother sitting with me. Her words rip through me. I always assumed she was so perfect…so happy. I breathe in the oxygen like I have been deprived.
“I was married once…I was so young. My heart was broken, many years ago."
She looks out the window. Then she turns back to me, her eyes locking on mine. Bearing into me. “Next time around you face that lion. That lion is your courage. It’s strong, it’s proud, it’s powerful. You face that lion, and you will be fine. Everything will be fine.”
She turns back to staring at the pane. The sun reflects, sparkling, tiny crystals hit the surface and reflect off the walls
“You know, I have a child,” she says looking into my eyes again. They glisten as she smiles. They are filled with pride and adoration. “A daughter. She is so beautiful and smart. The light of my life. She is always so independent and strong, I always envied that in her. If you stay long enough, you’ll meet her. She should be coming by soon.”
Closing my eyes I turn my head toward the heavens. Salty drops continue to roll down my cheek. I can feel the dampness on my skin as I try to wipe them away.
Time stands still as her words resonate within me.
They heal me one crack at a time.
In her eyes I was always perfect.
“Ava?” I think I’m dreaming as I turn slowly toward the soft voice. I turn to face my mother, and she looks into my eyes with a clarity that I haven’t seen in her in months.
My eyes widen in disbelief. Tears pour from my eyes as I kneel in front of her and press my forehead to her lap. She softly touches my head, gently caressing me. I cry so hard, the sobs shaking my body.
“I love you, Mom.”
“Ava?” she pauses, “how much?” Her breath catches as she speaks. “How long has it been?”
“Too long to remember, Mom.”
“I’m not sure how much time has passed? How much time?” she repeats, visibly shaken by her lucid moment.
“Months, maybe even a year.”
“A mother needs to see her daughter sometimes to get well,” she says to me.
“And sometimes a daughter needs a mother to finally heal,” I whisper back.
I watch her eyes as she starts to become lost in time, trying to find her way back to the present. “I feel like I’m dying sometimes. I feel like my soul is just drifting, just searching for some place to remember, and then I come back…and I feel like I’m returning to just say goodbye. Like this will be the last time. I just want to be free of this pain and this loneliness, but I hold on, for this. I hold on to see you again, Ava.”
“Shh, Mom, let’s just enjoy this time we have.”
“I love you, Ava. It just…it just makes me so sad. I should be here to hug you, to help you though your pain, I should be here to one day hold your children. I will miss that. I will miss…everything.”
She wraps her fingers around my hair as she twirls it lightly like she did when I was a child. “Promise me. Promise me, you will tell your kids about who I once was…not this, don't let them see me like this.”
“Mom, I don't have kids.”
“No, but you will, you will one day. You will have a daughter, and she will light up your world like you do mine. She will be the reason you wake up. You were my reason every day. When the pain gripped at me, you were the reason I went on. You were my reason to live.” She continues to stroke as I hear her sniffling trying feebly to suppress a sob. “Promise me.”
Hearing her cry breaks me apart even further. I try to breathe, try to calm the lump that is residing in my throat, but the rush of oxygen does nothing to ebb my tears, they only flow faster. An involuntary sob breaks free. The tears I was holding began to spill down my cheeks. “I promise, Mom.”
She takes a calming breath. The sound of whimpers become fainter and fainter. She places her hand beneath my chin, turning my face up to her. Her green eyes sparkle through the moisture at me. They are piercing, vibrant, beautiful.