The Two Kinds of Loves

I don't even remember writing this... But it was for him, nonetheless, I miss him so...

Inside a warm apartment, a shelter from the horrible cold outside, a widowed young woman sitting on a love seat, legs tucked in beneath her, thumbing a silver heart pendant. Her face spoke of aging beauty but her eyes whispered sadness. She stared at the phonograph, a relic from her grandmother’s time and saw as her mind forced two ghosts from the past into her line of vision. They moved in circles never leaving each other’s eyes, smiles playing at the corners of their mouths. She could see him… His eyes gleaming and his hand upon her cheek… Leaning in for a �"

“Momma?”

She jumped, and turned to see a little brown haired boy, staring back at her. His eyes were sad as well.

“Randall, what are you doing out of bed?”

“Nightmares, Mom.”

“Oh, come here you.”

He walked to his mother, and she immediately scooped him up, “What was it this time?”

“A lake… You’re shaking Momma.”

“Just cold,” she said her voice a whisper. “What happened at the lake?”

“Daddy didn’t want to go back, said he had to go home. He walked away and cried. Is that why daddy isn’t here?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “He… He was called back… to a safe and secret place. He may have left his body here but that’s where his soul left to. Ask me again when you’re older okay honey? You’ll get it then…”

After he left to his room, she looked back at the phonograph. They were no longer there.

Ten years later, in a new and more comfortable living space, the woman set the phonograph near the fireplace. She sat on the love seat again and stared at the fire place, the ghosts coming back into play. The man kneeled down on one knee, and opened his mouth and said �"

“Mom?”

She jumped and looked at the boy now fifteen, his hair long and shaggy but the same sadness lingered in his eyes.

“I remember the conversation we had.”

He walked to his mother and said, “Tell me what happened to dad.”

She patted the space next to her and said, “He died… of a horrible defect in his body, I don’t really know I could never bear listening to the doctors.”

Huge tears seeped down her cheeks.

“Why?”

“Doctors aren’t very trustworthy from what I remember, they tell you lies… Like the therapist that said that I’ll get over it in a year. I never did get over it.”

“Why?”

“I love your father more than anything in the world, I still love him.”

“Even more than me?”

She chuckled and held him close. “There’s two kinds of love, sweetheart. Love and Mother Love. You’re the light of my life and I love you more than anything, that’s the Mother Love. Your father is my one and only and I love him more than anything, that’s the Love. Eventually you’ll see what I mean.”

“Is that why you never seem to fall in love?”

“Yes. Your father is the only man I’ll love.”

He pondered and said, “I had the same dream again… about the lake I told you about…”

“You and your dreams honey… Paint them… Paint the lake you see through your eyes.”

The next morning, she bought the paint, easel, and brushes.

He did as she requested and painted the lake.

 

He named it “Daven Lake” and his mother cried, smiling at the ghosts in the corner on a small isle. They danced again…