A Letter From My Mother

 

A Letter from My Mother

 

North sat in the drivers' seat staring up at her childhood home. It had been ten years since she had last been inside and she was afraid of getting out of the car. Sitting there staring up at her house, North could remember all the years of silence she had spent wandering through the hallways or hiding in the corners. North began to wonder in awe at the ten years of happiness she had after she had finally let go of her fears and the silence. The dread of losing the grip she had gained upon leaving her home was what kept North rooted to the drivers' seat; hands clutching the wheel; barely breathing. Fear of falling into the deafening silence again was too much for her to handle. North was afraid of herself, she was afraid of walking into the old rooms, remembering old smells, sounds, and colors of when she lived there before. She did not sit there long wallowing in her fears dug up to draw her back into the silence.

She sighed, shook her head and unclenched her fingers from the wheel. After rubbing the blood back into her hands and giving herself a look of irritation in the rear view mirror she opened the car door and got out. North approached the front steps of the house; there were four steps but there might have been an entire staircase full for all North would have known. To North it was an eternity to ascend the four steps to the door. Once she was facing the front door, key in hand, the slow creeping and paralyzing fear that began at the base of her spine was snaking its way up the length of her back. After she put the key in the lock and turned the knob, she felt herself released for a moment, able to catch her breath. When North opened the door she felt a wave of memories descend upon her. Rather than fearing the hold, they use to have on her, she engaged in them, allowing her memories to brighten the dark corners, clear the dusty shelves and unfold the old furniture that filled the rooms.

Standing in the doorway she took the length of the room in, she remembered the last time she had been in the room. She had been there preparing to leave. She was standing with her back to the room facing the door, it was still closed when she turned to look one time over her right shoulder, she was 18 years old than. Her grandmother was coming from the sundeck from the left through a set of double doorways. She paused when she saw North staring over her shoulder, "Ready North?" She had looked back and smiled at her grandmother, "yes". North did not remember much afterwards only that her grandmother was the last to leave and lock the door. When they pulled away North did not look back nor glance in the rearview mirror for one more sight of her childhood home, she had been looking ahead.

The house smelled stale like old moth balls and dust. The windows had a layer of grime and dirt distorting the light and causing shadows throughout the first floor of the house. North walked slowly listening to her foot steps echo in the hallways; sounds reverberating off the high ceilings. She felt completely alone in the big house with only her own sounds to accompany her on her solitary trek through the old rooms. It was on the second landing that she felt a particular stirring in the back of her mind as she approached her parent's old room. It wasn't one of the sad memories, but one she cherished and held close to her heart, so that when she recalled it she did so with a smile not with tears.

North opened the door and saw her parents king size bed sitting where she had left it years past. There in the center of the room were the four mahogany posts that held up a canopy when there was one. The bed and the rest of the furniture in the room were covered in large white sheets to help prevent dust from ruining the wood. She stood in the doorway but she was looking at a room that no longer existed but she could see some of it in her mind. There were footsteps light and quick along the hardwood floors in the hallway. She heard a child's giggle as she saw herself, as a child bolting along the hallway towards her mother's open bedroom door. Her mother stood ready at the bedside with a devilish grin on her face as her only daughter came barreling through the door towards the bed. North standing there watching her memory come alive brought back the sensation she felt when she was five years old soaring into the air landing on her mothers giant bed as the covers engulfed her and her mother within them.

She remembered the warmth of her mother's body against her own, the silk of the covers wrapped tightly over her and the excited anticipation of what story her mother would tell her that morning. North walked into the room around the bed and towards the windows. She leaned against the window frame while her mother's voice echoed in her head, "we had to be quick this morning we didn't want the little people to hear us". North smiled as she stood up from the window and turned her back to it facing the bed she whispered out loud her memory clear "But why mommy?" She paused for a moment smiling at her precocious self at five years old," What are the little people?" North made her way back to the door as her mother told her the story of her encounter with the little person in the cabinet.

"Tell me a story about the little people momma, how do you know they exist if you have never caught one?" My mother was of course prepared for this question. I always asked such things knowing she would have a story to tell me, one filled with colors, creatures and princesses with beautiful hair who always wore long dresses. "WHAT? I did too catch one and would have kept him if I didn't love your father so much. You see North he was a very handsome little person; he was a boy of course. He was sneaking around in the kitchen cabinets one day trying to steal some of my favorite crackers. He was a noisy one at that, he didn't seem to care I could hear him; I half believed he wanted me to catch him. "I laughed at the thought of a little boy shuffling through our cabinets looking for crackers. I snuggled closer and fingered her long dark hair as she continued her story. "The little people are scavengers; they eat crumbs that are dropped on the floor or little grapes we leave laying about. They are particularly fond of crackers and cheese. Bart, Bart was his name, and he had been attempting to climb into one of the cracker boxes in search of an afternoon snack. He was a silly little person; always causing a ruckus, playing tricks on other little people. He was always scaring Missy our cat.”

Of course with perfect timing as I was falling under the magic my mother weaved with her story little foot steps started from the bottom of the bed touching our feet. My mother stopped and giggled, "He's here!" I was so excited I squeaked and than suddenly it felt as if hands took hold of my feet, "Mommy he's got me!" My mother started to laugh as she tossed the covers from us and there my cat, Missy, was attacking my toes that had begun to wiggle under the covers. She flicked her tail back and forth with a sense of mischief while my mother rolled on her side laughing.

"Now where were we, oh yes, so I opened the cabinet very slowly, I didn't know what was in there and I was sure that I didn’t want to frighten whatever was creeping around. So there I am standing in the center of my kitchen watching these little legs kicking all wildly out of the top of my favorite box of crackers. I stood there in complete disbelief and a little annoyed that someone should be hanging about in my box of crackers. 'Excuse me' I said, 'but what do you think you are doing with my crackers?’ Of course the sound of my voice frightened the dickens out of him and he fell straight through the box.”

Her eyes went large with excitement and wonder, it was such a calamity for a small person to fall head first into her box of crackers. As she continued I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of little legs kicking out of the top of a cracker box sitting quietly in my mother's cabinet. "Now that particular box of crackers happened to be the kind that came in rows all tightly wrapped in individual plastics, so I took the box out of the cabinet and set it down on the counter. I opened the top flap and peered in at him squeezed half upside down in between the three rows of crackers. 'Please' he said at first while trying to turn him right side up, 'I didn't mean anything by it. I just, I just, (He stuttered when he was nervous) I just love these crackers and I was hoping to have one for an afternoon snack'''. My mother had this amused look on her face as if she really believed that one morning she had found a little man in her cabinet.

"So I said, 'well that's fine but do you need to make such a racket while doing it?’ And do you know what he said to me?" I shook my head, she always paused to make sure I was listening and enthralled in her story, "He said 'what is a beautiful afternoon without a good song to make the day seem better?' I had to agree with him, don't you North, isn't singing out loud in the middle of the afternoon on a cool summer or spring day just make it so much better? "I remember her pulling me away so she could examine my reaction; she wanted to see how I would respond. I nodded; those afternoons when we had sung together were some of my favorite. "So I asked 'well if you were singing just than you might consider some lessons from a teacher because they were just plain awful noises'. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings you know but little people tend to be very shy and very, very sensitive. Bart started to cry and said that everyone was always making fun of his singing and never gave him a chance to sing better. 'Well sing with me' I said, 'I don't care what other people think of me and I probably sing terrible as well and just never listened to anyone who said otherwise.”

North had come to her destination, the reason for her return, the attic door. As she stood there her memory and the voice of her mother faded into the recess of her mind. She touched the door lightly knowing what lay beyond it, the hidden treasures her grandmother had only recently revealed its existence to her. The attic itself had well over 15 years of dust over it, North's grandmother had stopped coming all the way up there when North was 13. She had stored away most of the pictures and tokens that reminded North and herself of North’s parents. After unlocking the door and stepping into the shadowed light coming through the dirty windows North hesitated for a moment. Her fear was slowly creeping up her spine and paralyzing her from taking another step towards a trunk her mother had kept. Her grandmother said the one possession she had hoped for years ago, had still at strange moments in her life longed for now, lay within her grasp, but she was afraid of what she would find. She was afraid of everything being a dream and waking up finding her whole journey home had never taken place. The trunk was sitting in the center of the attic waiting for her to open it, beckoning for her to open it. She knelt in front of the trunk once she was able to regain the motion of her legs pushing her fear aside. Her mother's initials were carved into the cover, 'R.M.W'.

After cleaning off the top of the trunk, North ran her hands slowly over the smooth wooden surface, carving out the R, M, and W carefully. Raina Macadrian Williams had been her mother, beautiful and taken too soon. Raina Macadrian was a family name; she received her name from North's grandmother, Raina means 'Peaceful Queen' in Spanish, while Macadrian was from North's grandfather's family and tribe. Her grandfather's great ancestor was a woman of medicine and great beauty; she had been called the 'daughter of the sea'. Williams was North's father surname, of English descent meaning 'protector'. North smiled remembering the image of her father, her teddy bear, and giant. He had been her protector, his name suited him as did her mother's name to her.

She gingerly lifted the trunk’s lid revealing an old familiar scent. She knew deep inside what it was, and it triggered flashes of her mother, she would sit on her bed after every shower wrapped tightly in a white cotton towel brushing her long dark hair. She would rub oil into her skin and the scent was jasmine and vanilla. The trunk had a lingering touch of her mother still imprinted within it. On top of everything there sat a leather bound journal and a notebook with North's name written across the top of it. This is it she thought to herself, this is what I have been waiting for. She lifted the journal and notebook out of the trunk and closed it. She sat back, crossed her legs, and placed both in her lap. The covers of each were yellowed with age and old, but still silken to the touch. North touched the corner lightly afraid to open the notebook but eager to know what was written inside. The journal and notebook looked familiar to North, she could remember vaguely seeing both sitting on her tray table in the hospital room the last time North had seen her alive. There was one particular memory, which over the years had hidden itself in her memory rarely coming out. It was the day her world had turned upside down, she remembered voices and colors distinctly but faces were no longer vivid, they were shadowed, and blurred. She remembered her day starting early that morning just after sunrise.

The morning had started out very bright, the sky was clear with a large bright sun in the center of the sky. North remembered the smell most of all. It was the beginning of spring, slowly bringing summer, the bright smell of possibility and rebirth. She remembered the strong smell of grass being cut and leaves being raked into piles, some of which were being burning. There was a fresh glow to that morning, North felt alive within it smiling and pointing out all of the new budding flowers to her grandmother. Neither of them spoke much on the ride, her grandmother had been acting strange for a few days. North had been discomforted by her silence of late.

When they' entered the large foyer of the hospital they were greeted by the usual medicinal smell that one associates with hospitals. North had crinkled her nose at it and held fast to her grandmother’s hand. She was worried all of a sudden. A feeling of dread came over her as they had passed through the revolving doors. She remembered the sound of the door scrapping against the marble floor and the air pockets swishing past her hair when the breeze was let in. The colors become heightened once they came to the double set of doors. North could never remember what they read; she was still learning to read in kindergarten. They had to press a button for someone to open the door. She remembered the high pitch buzz of the doorbell; she never liked it, the sound always left a ringing in her ears.

The next hallway was a long walk to the nurses' station with rooms bordering both sides. As she passed each set of rooms she could see the sun shining in through the windows and casting shadows along each floor and bed. The air in this hallway was tight, dry, almost suffocating. She could hear her own breath slowing down as if time was coming to a halt. Before they reached the nurses desk there was a loud buzzing sound in the background. At first North had thought it was the door they had just entered being buzzed again but she saw the nurses' jump up from their chairs as they rushed down the hallway. North had watched them stumble after each other down to the room she knew to be her mothers. She took one step in that direction but every muscle in her leg froze as her father stumbled backwards against the wall. North didn't remember him leaving but the impact of his strong arms against the doors she did remember because they broke the buzzing in her ears.

She stood there watching a piece of dust float along in the shadow of the sunlight coming through the windows above the nurses' station. As the piece of dust landed the hallway became red, filled with deep hues, as her skin became cold and her throat tight. North couldn't remember the doctor or the nurses that touched her, whispered to her, but remembered the cold dampness of her mother's room. She could no longer picture her face, her hair, nothing discernable except her left hand. The hand was white, pale and cold. The only flaw was the tiny brown freckle at the base of her thumb on the back, a little to the left. North memorized that little mark as she touched it delicately.

The same freckle was mirrored on her own left hand as she lifted the cover to the journal.There was a letter tucked inside the cover of the notebook addressed to North. If only I had thought to come to this trunk sooner. How desperately I had wished for such a correspondence years ago, how foolish I was in my grief to refuse to look into her trunk, finding exactly what I was looking for in the first place. North started shaking, pain gripping her stomach as she liftedthe letter slowly. Tears welled up in her eyes as she slowly lifted the lip of the envelope andslipped the folded piece of stationary out of it. Her hands shook as she began to read hermother's letter;

"My Dearest Love, North,

I want you to know first how much I love you sweetheart. You are the light in my life everyday, since the day you were born and even before that. I will miss you every moment that I am not with you. Even now sitting in this hospital room I miss you. Your smiles are reward enough everyday that we shared in laughs, songs, and memories. I am writing you this letter because I know how painful this situation is and I am afraid that you will feel as if some of this is your fault. I want you to never blame yourself or feel as if you did anything wrong. You are perfect to me, you never disappointed me and you never could. I want you to take some advice from me; I want you to smile everyday even if it is raining and cold. Always smile, make everyone believe you have a secret even if you do not have one. Look for magic in everything, when you are expecting it it's already there and when you least expect it magic will always surprise you. Look forward to the rain, rain is filled with magic and cleansing; it clears away the pain and brings life. When it rains take your daughter or son outside, tell them the rain is good for their hair. Teach them to dance like we did when you were little, spinning around with your arms open wide. Always look at your child with love and exploration, you were my best teacher, I saw life blossom within your eyes and face everyday I looked upon you. Cherish every star, don't work to hard, life is not worth living if your only existing for that other day when it might be easier. Life is easy now all you have to do is live it. Enjoy life as much as you can because it is all you have. Never settle for any love that is easy or because someone said to do it, always follow where your heart goes and never regret the choices you make. Love with every piece of your soul; see the significance of little things, gestures and moments. They are the ones that you will remember in the end. Remember love I cherished every waking moment I shared life with you and I loved you more than life itself. I will love you for eternity and beyond, you are my reason for living, for exploring and discovering new worlds and for waking up every morning with a smile and a hope for magic.

I knew love and I knew magic when you came into my life. The notebook is my last gift to you my love, my baby girl, it contains all of the stories I told you as well as empty pages for your pen to fill for your unborn babies to come. Don't cry my heart for losing me; think of it as only a reprieve for we will find each other again. I know in my heart we will for you are my light and life, you are the air I breathe. My beautiful girl, I want you to live each moment, cherish each star, wonder at every kiss, stare into the abyss and jump off every cliff. Always love violently and always live your life passionately.

 Always love and forever yours, mom"

North sat there for a time reading her mother's letter over and over again so the advice, the love and the words could filter into her soul. She could hear her mother's voice reading the letter to her as she wrote it. North knew it had been with love and hope that her mother wrote the letter.

After sometime had passed North stood up covered in the dust from the attic, she carried the notebook, the letter, and the journal with her leaving the house behind. Standing on the porch she remembered one more memory of her mother. North walked around the porch that wrapped itself around the house. The porch connected with the sundeck and reached all the way to the back of the house. Standing at the outside door to the sundeck she could hear their voices singing together and as the song progressed in her memory the voices changed. The voices she heard ringing were no longer her own child-like voice and the voice of her mother but the voice of North's own daughter and herself, now an adult singing together as they do every morning. By the time she stepped off the porch towards her car the sun light that had been bright when she first arrived was waning into dusk, and setting behind the trees that lined the driveway and house.

She opened the door to the car standing there staring at her house, her childhood home again. She smiled as she tossed her mother's things on the passenger's seat beside her. She started the engine and took one long glance at the house. On the seat next to her new found treasures was her cell phone, she lifted it after noticing the message alert flashing. She had two missed calls from her husband; she smiled and pressed the speed dial to their home phone. "Hi, how did it go? Are you all right?" The concerned sound in her husbands voice pulled at North, she knew she had been gone for quite a bit, "Yeah, it was all there just as Grandma said. I found the letter. I'm okay." Her husband sighed, "Are you coming home?" North pulled out of the drive way before she answered her husband. As she did, so she glanced at her old home in the rearview mirror with a sense of accomplishment. "I'll be home soon. Can I talk to Lizzie for a minute?" He chuckled and handed the phone to their three old little baby girl named Elizabeth, "Mommy is on the phone".

She was sitting in her high chair throwing her blocks back and forth but at the mention of the phone and her mother she squealed and started talking to her before she had the phone. "Mumma, you coming home shuun?" North smiled at her daughter's voice, "Of course, I am on my way right now." Elizabeth clapped excitedly, "Bring da crackers okay mumma, da people wan' em". North chuckled, "I already bought a big box of them for the little people. You want me to tell you the story of the little man again when I get home?" Elizabeth giggled, "Yes peez, an da crackers right mumma?" North laughed out loud, "Yes Baby and the crackers I got them for you. I will be home soon I promise, I love you sweetheart." Elizabeth was getting distracted by her blocks but managed to say "I low you too!" North said goodbye to her husband and reassured him she was on her way home. After saying 'I love you' she hung up the phone. Before North left she reached down under the seat and pulled out the box of crackers she had bought and put it on top of her mother's things. She laughed out loud again; don't worry baby I got the crackers for the little people, I got the crackers for you.