It's the first Mother's Day since the death of her only son. How can a Mother who is still grieving deal with such a holiday?

First Born

September 5, 1983

To anyone else, it was just a date - nothing special about it. But to Lucille Langston, it was the date she died.

Figuratively.

The tomb doors had closed on her son's final resting place.

She died as well and never recovered.

Jacob died and she had to put his accident out of her mind so her heart would stop shattering at the sound of his name.

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Henry Langston had just finished the yard work in silence. He could see his wife at the side of the house planting colorful pansies in the ground, those old faded work gloves just as dirty as ever. Lucille wiped her cheek and a smear of topsoil left a mark that made his wife look ridiculously adorable. For the first time in months, Henry could feel the sides of his mouth tugging his lips in the direction of a….wait - was this a smile? His cheeks even lifted. As if Lucille knew her husband was looking at her, she held up her trowel and waved.

He leaned against the Hefty bag of lawn clippings and looked up at the bright April sky. Recalling a snippet of the news he heard on the garage radio, it seemed as if they might get some rain tonight. What was that old adage? April showers bring May flowers?

Henry zip-tied the ends of his bag and hollered across the lawn, "Hey! How 'bout some lunch?"

Lucille nodded her straw covered head and began peeling off her gardening gloves. Henry was always hungry. She had fed him a huge breakfast, but the man devoured the waffles and bacon like he missed dinner the night before! Now he was starving again. The warm sun felt good on her shoulders. She stretched and felt a twinge in her back. Damn! There goes the back again!

Henry put an arm across his wife's shoulders and helped her up the front steps. It was hell getting old.

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The next few days passed with splashes of rain and a warming of hearts. Lucille seemed to be coming around – sort of. Henry noticed that she would hum with the radio – that was new. She was carrying a different handbag that probably put him back a few bucks, but hey….he was getting his wife back.

Mourning was a horrible emotion.

Towards the middle of the month, Lucille invited her brother-in-law Fred and his infant daughter Maggie to dinner. Though Fred and Henry didn't always see eye-to-eye, everyone knew this meal was"a big deal".

After the table had been cleared and Lucille was cuddling her niece, Fred stood on the porch with Henry drinking a cup of coffee. "Great dessert."

Henry looked over at his brother to find he was studying him.

"What." Henry replied not as a question but more as a statement.

Fred sipped the hot beverage and replied, "Oh nothing."

Henry leaned over the porch railing and chuckled softly, "Nothing my ass. That's what you say to your inmates before you feed them crap for dinner."

Fred grinned, "Its Lucille. I've been worried about her. Worried about you too! Since the accident…I didn't think she would ever be the same."

Henry scrubbed his face. How could his little brother possibly understand? At least his child was still living! Wait…that was unfair – Fred lost his wife in the accident also and while Henry wasn't really close to his sister-in- law Barbara, the two deaths were a major blow to the Langston family.

Fred looked off into the distance, "Mother's Day is coming….it's gonna be hard."

Henry closed his eyes. Mother's Day. He hadn't even thought of weathering that holiday. Thanksgiving and Christmas were bad enough, but Mother's Day? He was going to lose his wife to grieving once again. Elbowing Fred in the ribs, Henry replied sarcastically, "Thanks a lot for the reminder."

Then he tempered his tone and added wistfully, "Maybe I need to take Lucille on a vacation….far away from Arcadia."

Nodding his head, Fred agreed, "Great idea – a different view – hell, maybe you guys can have some fun for a change."

Henry turned and looked into the front window to see his wife bestowing a kiss on the tiny dark head of his little niece. Lucille was a great mother. Maybe on this vacation they could try for another baby? Of course not a replacement for Jacob…no child could replace his first born son. But….hell, how did a family weather a storm when the children die before the parents?

Henry Langston swallowed a lump in his throat the size of a golf ball. He would not cry. Not in front of his brother. With a bit of hoarseness in his voice, Henry nodded towards the window, "Think it's time I talked to Lucille."

Fred got the drift and answered, "Yeah..uh….I better get Maggie to bed….I have an early shift tomorrow."

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It was a beautiful day for the first of May. Birds were chirping while fat bumble bees were dining on the nectar of Lucille's colorful pansies. It was one of those lovely days you long for after a hard winter.

Breakfast was being served on a small bistro table in the backyard. A canopy of tree limbs provided shade and the flowers scented the air just perfectly. And the powdered sugar covered French toast didn't smell so bad either!

Lucille looked over her cup of coffee to see Henry smiling at her. "Why do you look so silly this morning?" she asked lightly.

Henry grinned and pulled an envelope from his back pocket and pushed it towards his wife. "Go on….open it."

Lucille's brows knitted together at this curious little exchange, "Is this a bill for the new shoes I bought? My favorite pair was falling apart."

Henry laughed, "No darling, it's not a bill. Open it."

With a tentative smile, Lucille opened the plain white envelope and gasped at the contents that fell into the palm of her hand. She looked at her husband, "New York? We're flying to New York?"

Henry grinned at the look of astonishment on her face, "Yeah well…I thought you could drag me to one of those fancy Broadway plays or we could see Ellis Island or something like that. You know, business has been real good lately..."

Lucille leaned over the table and kissed her husband on the lips. "Oh honey….I appreciate the gift….really…I've always wanted to go to New York. Jacob told me he always wanted to spit from the top of the Empire State building…." She started to choke up a bit. The tickets still in her hand, Lucille stood up. "I - I have errands to run."

His shoulders dropped. This had appeared to be the perfect getaway and yet it only seemed to remind his wife of their dead son. Henry's fingers folded into a fist and he sobbed.

He cried so soft that nobody heard a sound.

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Mother's Day.

It was a rainy day on May 15th of 1984. Lucille insisted on walking alone to the cemetery with only her large black umbrella to accompany her. The drizzle was annoying but it was a welcome shroud to complement the icicles that surrounded her heart.

The family tomb was a concrete monument of death. Behind those iron doors were nine resting places with seven of them already filled. Jacob Langston lay next to old Aunt Barbara. The remaining crypts were for Henry and lastly Lucille Langston.

She sat on a bench that had a clear view of the mother statue holding a child in her arms. Lucille supposed that could have been Margaret's mother or even Great Grandmother Langston, but the hideous effigy in no way served as an example of herself and Jacob.

The cemetery was quiet. There were some visitors off in the distance placing flowers on loved one's graves but Lucille preferred the solitude and the gray haziness that covered Jacob's resting place. She closed her eyes and was immediately taken back to August 28, 1983.

That was the day they told her Jacob had died.

That was the day Lucille had fallen asleep as a mother (however briefly) only to awake childless. It was an accident they said. Baby Maggie was still in her stroller on the riverbank, while Jacob had tried to save his aunt Barbara from drowning.

Lucille could feel her heart shattering all over again at the memory. She had thought that she was past this pain but dammit, you can't lose a child and not think about it every waking moment. Nine months ago she had buried her son and grieved. It was happenstance that she carried and nurtured an infant Jacob for the same amount of time. Nine months.

It was fate that he only lived short of nine years.

Lucille dashed away a tear that fell down her cheek. She looked towards tomb and blinked at the sight of a doe and her fawn standing not twenty feet away. Choking back a sob, Lucille couldn't help but be envious that even wildlife, like the deer, still had a mother and child relationship.

She hiccupped a sob. "Oh Jacob…my baby…I'm so sorry." Her blue eyes were filled with a glaze of unshed tears. "If I had only woken sooner….if I wasn't so tired…if only." The damn burst and the waterworks began. Tears that had been held back for too long rained from her blue eyes.

A small squirrel hopped onto the sidewalk at Lucille's feet. She looked down and uttered, "Shoo!" The tiny rodent dropped a nut on the ground at her feet as a peace offering. Begrudgingly, Lucille reached down and picked up the pecan. "Thank you."

The squirrel stood on his hind legs and worried those tiny paws. Another tear fell to the ground and still the furry pest fretted. The doe and her baby walked towards Lucille who was lost in her grief.

The fizzle of rain had finally stopped and a glimmer of sunshine lit up the grave site warming Lucille and her zoo of curious wildlife. A red wren was jumping on the statue chirping an uneven melody as Mrs. Langston softly sobbed.

A little green frog hopped onto the edge of the concrete and uttered a tiny croak. Lucille lifted her head and as she did, a prism of colored lights appeared. With clarity she hadn't recognized, she knew Jacob was sending her a message.

The rainbow was the color of love. The deer were reminders of tender moments between mother and son. The nut giving squirrel was an expression of memories that would always be present. She smiled softly because the tiny frog didn't have a meaning. He croaked but it sounded a little like "burrrp", kind of like that silly noise Jacob made when drinking a root beer.

Laughing, Lucille looked towards the sky and saw a cumulus cloud that had the outline of what she could only describe as an angel. Maybe it was a message from her son or maybe it was just a cloud but it meant something to Lucille. She bathed her face in the warm rays of the sunshine and whispered, "I miss you too baby."

The red bird flew close to Lucille and chirped as the squirrel scampered away. The mother deer looked over her shoulder to make sure the human was going to be fine. The frog ribbitted one last time before hopping away.

Her heart didn't ache as much. It still hurt but the pain was dull. Life was still going to go on whether Jacob was here or not. The fact that he "sent a message" told Lucille that he was at peace and happy and that she should be as well.

Lucille smiled a happy smile for the first time in many months.

Life at the Langston house would go on and reminders of Jacob would still be there with pecans on the ground or in the dazzling colors of sunlight dancing on the kitchen floor.

She may have lost her son, but she would never lose her memories.

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R I P Jacob Langston

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