Author's Notes: I do not own the characters, they belong to their original creators.
This story is part of the "Homecomings" universe. It starts one month prior to A Father's Gift, and continues on after.
It is a Mother's Day story, and I decided to post it now instead of waiting until the holdiay.
The story is not beta'd so any errors are mine.
A Mother's Love
by Susan Bishoff
Mark was still adjusting to being part of a real family again after being on his own for so long. He looked forward to each holiday with anticipation and anxiousness. The judge and Tom, knowing his unease about disrupting their long held traditions, were helping him to understand his new place in them.
Mother's Day was approaching and as always was one holiday Mark was not looking forward to. He knew the occasion was also difficult for the judge and Tom. They had told him to come to them when something was wrong, but he couldn't go to them with this. They had their own sadness connected to the holiday, and did not need burdened with his. It was one of the few things in his past that he had not opened up to his family about.
He knew from last year's experience that the judge and Tom would go to the cemetery to visit with Mrs. Hardcastle, and he would stay at the estate. He didn't think anything would change because he was part of the family. She wasn't his mother after all, and he understood their wanting to be together to remember her without him there. Besides, he kept telling himself, he wouldn't be good company anyway.
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Mother's Day dawned bright and sunny, and the temperature was already pleasantly warm. Mark looked at the early morning sun for a moment before going to the main house for breakfast.
As Mark walked into the kitchen, he heard the judge say, "Tom, after breakfast we'll go to the cemetery."
"Sure, Dad. I'll need to go over to my house to get the flowers for her grave," the ex-Marine replied.
"Good morning," Mark said, and quietly took his seat.
"About time you got up. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep the day away," the jurist remarked, using one of his favorite gripes to greet the ex-con.
"No, I didn't hear the morning basketball session, and overslept," Mark shot back, using his typical response.
"That's because I decided to skip them this morning," the judge said.
"Here, have some eggs," Tom said, and passed the platter filled with scrambled eggs.
"Thanks," the ex-con replied, and accepted the plate. He began to fill his plate.
"Mark, would you like coffee or juice this morning?" Sarah asked, and started for the counter.
"Oh, that's okay, Sarah. You sit down. I can get it myself," Mark replied quickly, and started to rise.
"I'm already up. I don't mind getting it for you. You just sit back down, and finish your breakfast. Now what would you like?" the housekeeper asked.
"I'll have juice, Sarah, and thanks," Mark said.
"You're welcome," she said as she placed the glass beside his plate. Before she walked to back to her place at the table, she gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Tom and the judge watched the interchange between the housekeeper and Mark. They were sometimes amazed at how nurturing and protective she was of the ex-con. Neither were about to complain about it though, since both knew he had missed having both in his life for a long time.
Clearing his throat, the judge said, "Tom, you about ready."
The ex-Marine drained his juice glass, and said, "As soon as I go over to the house."
"I'll meet you at the car," the older man replied.
"Okay, Dad," Tom said, and headed for the door.
Mark ate his breakfast in silence. He didn't want to intrude, or make the judge feel bad about leaving him behind.
The judge stopped on his way out of the kitchen. "I'm not sure what time we'll be back. We may be gone all day," he said.
"Okay," Mark said, and thought he needn't have worried that the judge would feel bad about leaving him behind. He then added, "See you later."
"Sure, kiddo," the jurist said, and was out the door.
Mark finished his breakfast, and then asked Sarah if she needed any help with the dishes, which she declined. She told him to just relax and enjoy himself today. He told her he was going down to the beach if she needed anything.
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The rest of the morning and through the afternoon, Mark spent on the beach. He talked to is mother about all the things that had happened to him since he last spoke to her. He told her about being in the judge's family, and about law school. He tried to keep the conversation on brighter topics because he didn't want to think about how much he missed her. He was mostly successful, but with her on his mind so much today, it was impossible for him not to think about her not being with him. He continued to sit and think about the woman who gave so much of herself to him as a young child. What he found was that it made him ache even more for her presence. It didn't help that there was no one around to share the memories with.
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Tom and his father went to the cemetery, and then spent the afternoon together. They went to places that they used to go with his mother. His father admitted that he had not visited many of them since she had died, as it was too painful to go there without either of them. Although they missed her, it was fun to visit some of their favorite places. They shared memories, and had a good day together.
They arrived home just before sunset. Tom didn't see Mark anywhere and knowing him as he did, suspected that he was probably on the beach. "I'll be in a minute. I just want to see if Mark is on the beach," he told his father.
The older man knew Mark would probably be missing his mother today, and may not welcome company. "He may not want to be bothered," he warned, and walked into the house.
"I know," Tom replied, also aware that his younger brother may want to be alone today. He walked over to the top of the staircase where he could see the outcropping Mark liked to sit on. He didn't see Mark there, but did find him sitting in the sand with his legs drawn up, and his arms around them. He looks so sad down there, he thought as he debated joining him. Deciding his father was probably right, and Mark wanted to be left alone, he walked into the house. He walked into the kitchen, and found his father talking to Sarah.
"Hello, Sarah," Tom said, and gave her a quick hug.
"Are you all right?" she asked, and gave them both a good looking over. She could see some redness around Tom's eyes, and knew she had seen some around the judge's as well. But they looked happy, and that was the important thing.
"Yes, we went to the cemetery, and then we went to some of those little shops Mom liked on the pier. I can't believe they're still there," Tom answered.
The housekeeper smiled, and asked, "Are you hungry? Would you like me to warm you up something to eat?"
"No, Sarah, we're fine. We ate before we came home," the judge answered. He then said, "I'm going in the den to see if there is a movie on."
"I'll be there in a few minutes," Tom said, and watched his father leave the room. He then turned to Sarah, and asked, "Has Mark been down on the beach long?"
The housekeeper's face saddened as she thought of the young man on the beach. "He's been down there nearly all day. I tried to get him to come up for lunch, but he said he wasn't hungry. He wouldn't come up for supper either, so I took him some sandwiches a few hours ago. Maybe I should have found something for him to do so he wouldn't have been alone all day."
"It's not your fault Sarah. I'm sure it's just that he misses his mother," the younger man replied.
"Yes, of course he does. I just wish he didn't have to be alone as well," the housekeeper responded. Then realizing what she had said, and not wanting Tom to feel bad because of it, she added, "You and your father needed your time together. I just should have tried harder to get him to come up here."
The ex-Marine had already been thinking about Mark being alone today. It was the reason he had asked the housekeeper about him. He was touched by her concern that he not feel bad, and said, "Sarah, I'm sure you did everything you could. Maybe I'll go see if he wants to come watch the movie with me and Dad."
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Mark had heard the car pull into the drive and knew Tom and his father were home. He wanted their company but didn't want to intrude on their day. He waited to see if one or both of them came to join him, but when neither did, decided to go to bed. He always felt down on Mother's Day, and now that the day was over, he could get back to normal. Tomorrow he would be his normal wise cracking self.
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Tom stopped at the den and told his father that he was going to get Mark to watch the movie. When he arrived at the top of the stairs leading to the beach, he could not see Mark below. He looked toward the Gatehouse, but didn't see any lights on there either. He thought that Mark must have gone to bed early, and decided not to bother him. He walked back in the house and joined his father in the den. It was hard for him to pay attention to the movie as his thoughts were on his younger brother.
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The next morning dawned bright as the day before. Mark was awakened by the familiar sound of the basketball hitting the backboard. He smiled as he got up to join the judge at the net. When he walked outside, he saw the judge and Tom in the middle of a game. He watched them for a few minutes until the judge dunked a basket, and said, "That's twenty one. I win."
Mark decided to interrupt whatever Tom was going to say. He laughed, and said, "Not bad for an old donkey."
The judge turned toward his youngest son's voice, and retorted, "I may be older than you, but I can still take you any day." He then tossed the ball to the ex-con to challenge him to a game.
"Think so. Well, I've got twenty that says I beat you," Mark said, letting the normal routine wash away any lingering thoughts of the day before.
"You're on," the older man remarked.
Tom moved out of the way, and watched as Mark and his father played ball. The judge played very aggressively, and Mark gave as good as he got. The ex-Marine was once again amazed at how much the two of them seemed to enjoy playing this roughly. He could tell Mark wasn't playing with quite his usual gusto, and knew it was because his father was tired from their game. He had noticed Mark tended to go slightly easier on their father if Tom played him first. He wouldn't have noticed himself if he hadn't watched them play so many times, and he was glad his father didn't ever seem to notice. Their father would be upset to think Mark wasn't playing with his usual gusto. It was a close game, but in the end, it was the judge who put the winning basket in the hoop.
The judge bent over to catch his breath for a moment before looking at the ex-con. Smiling, he held out his hand, and said, "I think you owe me twenty."
Mark reached into his pocket to withdraw the bill, and handed it to the judge. It had been a good game, and the younger man was happy to be where he was. As he handed it over, he said, "Thought for sure I could beat you."
"Keep dreaming kiddo," the jurist said, and pocketed the bill.
The three men walked into house to begin their day. Because Mark was not acting upset, Tom soon forgot his concerns from the day before. The days and weeks that followed quickly fell into the normal routine, and thoughts of Mother's Day were forgotten by all for the time being.
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One Year Later.
It was early on Mother's Day morning, and Tom had given up sleeping hours ago. He had gone to bed with thoughts of the coming holiday, and the plans he had with his father. Right before sleep claimed him, he had a flash of the image of Mark sitting alone on the beach last year. He was again reminded how he wished he could have helped his younger brother, who obviously missed his mother as much as he did his own. He had only managed to sleep a few hours before he was awakened by a dream. The dream itself didn't bother him, it had been of happier times with his mother. But it refreshed his concern for Mark, and kept sleep from reclaiming him. The dream had reminded him that Mark had lost his mother at a much earlier age, and that he had to feel that loss very strongly, especially on Mother's Day.
By the time it was time for breakfast, he had a good idea of something that might help Mark not be alone on this day that was so sad for him. He decided he would talk to his father about it on the way to the cemetery.
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As his father drove to the cemetery, Tom decided to bring up the subject that was on his mind. "Dad, I'd like to talk to you about something."
The jurist had known something was on his son's mind since breakfast. He had noticed Tom casting glances toward Mark, and being extra quiet. Mark had also been extremely quiet this morning, and he wondered if perhaps they had had an argument. "Sure, son what is it?" the older man asked.
"I think that maybe instead of spending the whole day out today visiting places, that maybe we should go home earlier in the afternoon," Tom answered.
The jurist was surprised by the younger man's request. He had thought Tom had enjoyed their remembrances the year before, and he had been looking forward to doing it again. But now he believed he had been wrong. He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice as he said, "If that's what you want to do."
The ex-Marine heard the sadness in his father's tone, and quickly said, "Dad, it's not that I don't want to be with you, or visit the places we went with Mom, because I do. It's just that last year we were gone all day, and Mark was alone at home. I know he misses his mother very much. I thought maybe I could spend some time with him this afternoon, so he wouldn't have to be alone all day. I know how hard it was for me when I was undercover to be away from home without anyone to talk to when Mother's Day came. It makes it twice as lonely when you are alone and missing someone. And he was a lot younger than I was when I lost Mom."
The judge now understood why his sons had been so quiet this morning. One was thinking of the long day he would be spending alone, and the other was thinking of ways to not let that happen. The older man was once again amazed at how close Tom and Mark had become, and how much Tom tended to protect Mark. He smiled, and said, "I think that's a good thing you want to do for Mark. I'm proud of you that you want to do something to make today easier for him. I know the holiday has always been hard for me, but I guess I never really thought about how Mark was feeling. I just assumed he wanted left alone because I did."
Tom understood what his father was saying, and said, "And maybe he does. I just thought he should know we are here for him today just like any other day. I thought that we could spend the morning and early afternoon like we did last year, and then go home. I'll see if Mark wants to talk or just wants company while he sits on the beach. He's part of our family now, and doesn't have to be alone when he is sad or upset. If he does want left alone, I'll come up to the house, and we can watch movies."
"Sounds like a good plan. You know, your mother would be so proud of you if she were here, and I know she is as she's watching over us," the jurist said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
Tom flushed from the praise, and his thoughts drifted to his mother. The conversation turned to her, and the special things she did to make Tom and his father feel loved.
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After he finished eating, Mark helped Sarah with the dishes. She offered to play cards with him, but he told her that he did not feel like playing, He asked if she had any chores she needed him to do, and she told him no and that he should just relax today. He told her that he was going to clean the pool, and then he was going to go down to the beach.
He had been sitting there alone with his thoughts for a few hours when Sarah brought him something to eat. She engaged him in a conversation about his classes while he ate, and for a short time, he forgot the pain in his heart. Once he was done eating he gave her back the plate and glass. Not wanting to leave him alone, she hesitated for a few moments before returning to the house.
After Sarah went back to the house Mark stared out across the ocean, and let his thoughts go where he had tried to prevent them from going all morning.
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Tom pulled into the drive, and said, "Thanks Dad for understanding."
The judge got out of the car, faced his son, smiled and said, "I'll be in the house if either of you need me." He started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to Tom, and said, "I'm very proud of you, son."
Tom nodded his head in acknowledgment, and said, "You already told me earlier today."
"Yes, but I wanted to say it again," the jurist said, and started toward the house.
"I'll see you after while," the ex-Marine said, and shook his head.
"Take your time," the older man said, just before he walked through the door.
Tom watched his father enter the house before walking to the stairs leading to the beach. He could see Mark sitting in the sand not far from the rock outcropping.
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Mark was lost in his thoughts and had not heard the car pull into the drive. He also didn't notice Tom, who had stopped a few feet away to watch his brother.
Tom stood watching Mark in silence as he studied his face. He could see the sadness in his eyes, and could tell that Mark was very tense and upset. After a few minutes without Mark noticing him, he cleared his throat quietly to make his presence known.
Mark was so lost in his thoughts that the sudden noise startled him. He quickly looked in the direction the sound had come from, and was surprised to see Tom standing there. He didn't say anything as he waited to see what the ex-Marine wanted.
When Mark didn't speak, Tom said, "It's a nice day to be down here. Do you mind if I join you?" He then waited for the answer.
The ex-con was surprised at the question. He had figured Tom and the judge would spend the whole day together as they had last year. After a moment, he said, "Sure, if you want to."
Tom smiled, and said, "Thanks." He sat down a few feet away from Mark, and remained silent. He wanted to give his brother time to start a conversation if he wanted.
Mark was glad for the company, and sat looking at the ocean. He thought that maybe he could talk to Tom about his mother, but wasn't sure the ex-Marine was interested. He thought Tom might have just wanted to sit on the beach, so he also remained silent.
After about five minutes of silence, Tom decided to see if Mark wanted to talk. He looked toward the ex-con, and asked, "What's on your mind? Are you thinking of your mother?"
The ex-con was surprised by the questions. Tom had cut right to the heart of what was on his mind, and was asking him to share his thoughts. At first, Mark didn't trust his voice, so he simply nodded his head.
The ex-Marine didn't say anything; he just waited for Mark to begin.
Mark met his brother's eyes, and saw the compassion there. He could also see that Tom's eyes were slightly red. The ex-con took a deep breath, and said, "I miss her so much." He tried to keep the tears that were suddenly in his eyes from falling.
Tom found his own eyes filling at the emotion in the simple words. "I know you do. I miss my mom too. I know it's had to have been hard for you because you lost her when you were a lot younger than me."
At those words of compassion, the tears could not be stopped. Mark wanted to be strong, but suddenly it was if a dam had broken.
Tom wanted to help his friend through his obvious pain. He moved closer and put is arm around the younger man's shoulder. The force of the tears was almost frightening, and the ex-Marine didn't know what to do.
Mark didn't acknowledge Tom's presence as he tried to regain his composure. He had not let himself cry like that over his mother since he was a child and in his uncle's care. It was there that he learned to hide his grief from everyone, including himself. He had always missed her, and been able to admit that, but he had never dropped his guard as he had today.
After a few minutes, Tom could feel Mark begin to get his emotions under control. He moved back a little, but kept his hand on the ex-con's shoulder. He wanted Mark to know that he was there for him, and that he was not alone any more. He had family now, and family members help one another through times of sorrow.
Mark was embarrassed by his show of emotion, and wasn't sure how Tom would react to it. Tom and the judge were so strong and he wanted to live up to their image. He didn't raise his head or meet the ex-Marine's eyes when he said softly, "Sorry about that."
"There's nothing to be sorry for. You miss your mother, and let your feelings show. There's nothing wrong with that," Tom replied, and feeling that Mark was not convinced, went on to say, "Everyone cries sometime. It's part of life, and especially part of continuing on when someone you love is gone." Tom moved so he was sitting facing Mark, and made himself comfortable.
At those words Mark did look up to meet his brother's gaze. Seeing none of the disappointment he expected to see, he said, "Thanks."
Based on the strong reaction Mark had had a few minutes ago, Tom wondered if he might want to talk about his mother and his loss. "You know, talking about her might make it less painful. I know it helps me to talk about Mom and all the things I remember about her. It brings her memory so much closer, and then I know she is not totally gone. She's with me in my heart, just as your mother is in yours. If you'd like, I'll tell you some things about my mom, too."
The ex-con was surprised that Tom wanted to hear about his mother, and wanted to share his memories of his own. He nodded his head, and asked, "Do you want me to go first or you?"
Tom watched Mark's hand move to his medal, and knew the younger man was nervous about what he was going to say, and said, "I'll go first."
Mark's hand dropped back to his lap, he smiled, and replied, "Okay." He took his handkerchief and wiped the remaining moisture from his eyes before getting more comfortable in the sand.
"You've seen pictures of my mom, so you know what she looked like," Tom started. At Mark's nod, he continued, "She was one of the nicest people I know. She would tell me stories, and play with me, and she helped me when I wanted to convince Dad of something. Like the time I wanted a dog, and he thought I wasn't old enough for one. Mom helped me talk Dad into getting one. And he was right, I wasn't old enough to take care of it yet. But Mom did it when I'd forget so I wouldn't get into trouble and could keep the dog. After a while, I decided that I should be the one doing it, so I did. I don't think Dad ever knew that Mom fed the dog for me."
The ex-con smiled at the story of the dog. He could remember his mother covering for him the same way. "I didn't have a dog because we didn't have room for one and couldn't afford one, but Mama did help me sometimes to do things I had forgotten. Once before I was in school, she lost her job because she took me to work with her, we had to stay with my grandmother until she could get a new job. At my grandmother's I was supposed to feed her cat every day. I was also supposed to sweep the floors upstairs. Mama would clean the house, and take care of the yard when she wasn't looking for a job. I tried to remember to feed the cat, but sometimes I'd forget, or I wouldn't clean the floors good enough. My grandmother got really angry, and called Mama all kinds of names. I remember Mama telling her I was just a little boy, and was too young to be doing chores. Grandmother told her that as long as we lived under her roof I would earn my keep. I tried harder to remember, but I know I still forgot a few times because I saw Mama feed the cat. I'd tell her I was sorry, but she would tell me that it was okay. I hated when we had to live there." Mark hadn't meant to tell anything about living with his grandmother. Tom's story had just sparked the memory, and he had spoken before he realized what he was going to say. Sometime during his telling of his story, he had reached up and taken a tight grip on his medal. He forced himself to relax, and let go of the medallion.
Tom didn't say anything; he was too shocked by the story. He had thought that sharing memories of their mothers would bring forth good memories, not dig up painful ones for Mark.
Before the ex-Marine could say anything, Mark started speaking again. "You know, even though living with my grandmother was bad, Mama and I still found time for each other. She gave me my St. Judes medal then, and told me that I was never alone. She would tuck me in each evening, and she was always there when I said my prayers. Although most of the time I was asking that Mama would find a job so we could move out of Grandmother's." Mark stopped to reflect on the memory.
Tom chuckled when he heard what Mark's prayer request had been. He could almost see a small version of Mark making that request in his mind's eye, and smiled at the image.
"Mama would try not to smile when she told me that we should be thankful Grandmother let us stay with her, but she would then tell me she hoped she found a job soon too. And when we did have our own place, it was great. She'd come home from work, and after dinner she would play with me, read me stories or just watch me play. When I started school, she would have me read my reading homework aloud to her, and she helped me learn the words," Mark said, his eyes sparkling with happiness at the memories.
Tom was glad to hear some of Mark's happier memories. He smiled, and said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. My mom didn't work, but she was always helping people. She was busy with one volunteer group or another, but she was always there for me. She helped me with my homework too. She would bake cookies with Sarah for Christmas, and throw me birthday parties. I never had to wonder where I fit in her world. She told me all the time." The ex-Marine was wrapped up in his memories, and didn't see the hint of sadness that crossed Mark's face for a second.
That's the life Mama should have had, not stuck raising her bastard son, and struggling because of it. Grandmother would have helped her if not for me, the ex-con thought, his hand once again fingering the chain around his neck. Those thoughts were quickly followed by another thought which wiped the sadness from his face. I know, Mama, you didn't care about those things, he thought.
Mark looked to Tom, and said, "Mama always made found some way to make Christmas, and my birthday special for me. We may mot have had fancy decorations, a lot of presents or a bog cake, but I always knew that she loved me. We would make decorations out of cardboard and foil and hang them from the old artificial tree our neighbors were going to throw away. And she always made my favorite foods on those days. Since there were just two of us, we usually just made a chicken instead of a turkey, but Mama would stuff it like it was one. She was a great cook, and everything was delicious. We may not have had much, but it was enough."
Tom was once again reminded how different their childhoods had been. He had always had plenty, and knew the love of both his parents, and Mark had grown up with little, and only his mother there for love; and then he lost her so young. He knew that the reasons Mark hadn't turned bitter when his life was so bad, was the love his mother gave him, and the example she showed him. Tom knew she was a good mother, and was curious about her. "Mark, you know what my mom looks like. Would you mind telling me what yours looked like?" he asked.
The ex-con thought about his mother, and brought her image to the front of his mind. "No, I don't mind.," he replied. He reached into his pocket, and removed a photograph from his wallet. "Here's her picture. She wasn't real tall, and she was thin; probably from running after me all the time. I'm not sure she's what someone would think was beautiful, but to me she was. She had black hair, and beautiful brown eyes. She was always smiling, even when things were bad. I know she got sad sometimes, but she never let it bring her down for long. She would take me in her arms, and tell me that I was her special treasure, and worth any amount of difficulty," he said.
Tom hadn't looked at the picture until Mark finished speaking. Mark's description of his mother just reinforced his earlier thoughts of the impact she had had on Mark's disposition. The ex-Marine could see those characteristics in Mark's personality. When he looked at the picture, he saw a young woman, holding a small child, smiling into the camera. She bore a strong resemblance to Mark, and seemed to radiate happiness, even in the old photograph. The ex-Marine smiled, handed the picture back, and said, "She was very pretty, and you look a lot like her. My mom was the same way. She was always telling me to look on the bright side, and find the good in any situation. Sometimes, I couldn't believe that she really thought there could be any good in things that were happening, but would find out that there usually was." He paused for a moment, and asked, "What were some things your mother liked?"
"She loved flowers. On the way home from school, I would pick some old wildflowers that grew in this old abandoned lot for her. I know now that they were just old weeds, but she would tell me they were the most beautiful flowers she'd ever seen, and then she would put them in a vase and set them in the center of our table," Mark replied.
Tom chuckled, and said, "I liked to give my mom flowers too. One time, I pulled got her a big bunch of flowers, and took them to her. Only thing was, I had pulled them from her flower beds. Some even had the roots still attached. I can remember handing her those flowers, and seeing the surprise in her eyes. She took the flowers, and put them in water. She then hugged me, thanked me for the flowers, and told me she loved me. Then she said that if I ever pulled another one of her flowers she'd tan my hide. Believe me, I never pulled up another flower."
The ex-con laughed at the tale, and said, "Now that sounds like something I would have done." He fell silent for a few more moments before he said, "You know I see Mama in my mind, and she's just as beautiful as always. But when I think of her, it's of warmth, and happiness, and love. I can see her in all the things she did to care for, love and protect me. I felt safe because she made me feel that way. Of all the things I remember about her, it's her hands I remember most. They were what held me when I was scared, spanked me when I was bad, touched my cheek when she wanted to tell me she loved me. Her touch and all the love I felt in it are what I really remember." Mark stopped speaking, embarrassed that he had said such nonsense.
Tom was silent as he considered what Mark had said. He realized that it was the same for him. Oh, he remembered what his mother looked like, but most of his more precious memories were of the acts she did for him, and the comfort she gave him. Finally, he said, "I know what you mean. I remember those things about my mother too."
Mark smiled at his brother's acknowledgment, and then said, "The judge never talks about how she died. Was it an accident, or had she been sick? I know it's none of my business; you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"No, it's okay. I guess if we're going to share memories of their lives, that includes how they died. Right?" Tom asked.
"Yeah," Mark answered quietly. He didn't know why he had asked the question, and as soon as he had, knew he would have to talk about his own mother's death. He waited for Tom to go on.
The ex-Marine knew that talking about his mother's death would be hard for Mark, but he was in this all the way, and would help his younger brother any way he could. He took a deep breath, and said, "You know I was away when she died." At Mark's answering nod, Tom went on, "I still had contacts who kept me pretty much informed on what was going on with Mom and Dad. They let me know that she was very sick with cancer. I wished I could come home to see her but I couldn't. I was in very deep and in the middle of a very important area, and by the time I got back to my headquarters, she was already gone. The cancer advanced fast, and she didn't suffer long. I just wish I could have been here to say goodbye. I never got to tell her I loved her before she died. She shouldn't have died believing I was dead," Tom stopped when he found it too difficult to go on.
The ex-con wasn't sure what to say to help Tom. He reached out, and clasped his shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze. Tom's story had moved him, and he struggled to find the words that would ease his brother's pain. "Tom, I'm sure she knew how much you love her, and that you would have been there with her if you could. And once she got to heaven, and realized that you were alive and what you were doing, she would have been very proud of you. She would have understood why you couldn't be here, and is happy now that you are home with your dad. She's your mother; she would just know."
Tom hadn't told anyone how guilty he felt at not being there when his mother died, not even his father. He hadn't meant to tell Mark either, but was glad he had. Just voicing his feelings had helped, and to hear Mark tell him his mother understood and knew he loved her went a long way to releasing his guilty feelings. The ex-Marine met the younger man's eyes, and said softly, "Thanks, Mark."
"Sure," Mark replied, and lowered his head. He wasn't sure where to begin, and not even sure he wanted to. But Tom had shared his memories, so it was only fair that he do the same. Finally, he started. "Mom had cancer too. She got sick the first time when I was almost eight. She was really sick for a while, and we ended up at my Grandmother's. Grandmother didn't take care of Mama like Mama did me when I was sick. Grandmother would let us stay there and because Mama was sick, she didn't make her do the housework. I would come home from school, get me and Mama some dinner, and then do some of the cleaning before doing my homework, and going to bed. Mama hated this more than when we stayed with Grandmother before because I had to work so hard. But I didn't mind. Mama took care of me, and now she needed me to take care of her. I'd tell her it was just until she was better, and then we'd get our own place again."
Mark quit talking, and tried to stop the tears threatening to come to the surface. His hand had once again moved to his medal, and he was fingering it.
Tom saw Mark's hand take hold of the medal, and realized he did so when he was upset. He seemed to draw strength from the simple gesture, and was glad his mother had given him the small token of love. He also knew Mark was fighting to remain in control of his emotions. He was afraid if he spoke Mark would not finish his story, and this was one story, the ex-Marine wanted to hear to the end. He had a feeling that like himself, Mark has not shared his feelings over his mother's death. So he remained silent as he waited for Mark to continue.
After a few minutes, the ex-con felt he could continue. "Mama did get better, and things were great for about two years. One day when I was ten, she came home from work early. She never did that, so I knew something was wrong. She told me she had been to the doctor that day, and the cancer was back. She told me the doctors said it was bad this time. I remember telling her that she'd be okay, and then I cried. She held me, and that's one of the few times I remember her crying." Mark stopped once again as the memories swamped him.
The younger man knew he needed to finish the story, and face the memories of his mother's death. He had avoided them for long enough. "For a while, she wasn't too sick and we could almost pretend it wasn't true, even though we both knew it was. Mama kept working as long as she could, and I took a job with the landlord to help pay the rent. We cut corners as much as we could so we wouldn't have to go back to Grandmother's. But eventually, Mama had to quit her job, and the money we had banked ran out. I did more odd jobs for Mr. Miller, that's the landlord, but it wasn't enough for the rent, and Mama's medicine. Mama called Grandmother to ask her if we could move in with her, but Grandmother said she had done more than her Christian duty by taking us in before and she wasn't about to again.
"I was really scared because I didn't know what we were going to do. Mama was upset because she wanted to protect me from all the worries, but had to rely on me to help her, which meant she had to be honest with me on how bad things were. I told Mama that if I didn't have to go to school, maybe I could get a job to help out, but she would have none of that. She said I was to go to school, and we'd manage somehow. Mr. Miller had been nice about letting me help out, but now that the money was gone I was sure he would kick us out, and I know Mama was worried about it also. I kept doing as many jobs for him as he would give me, and even tried to talk him into more of them. The day before our rent was due that month, he came to our apartment. He wanted to talk to Mama, but she told him that he could talk in front of me also because it affected me, and I needed to know what was happening. He was there to tell us that he could not let us stay in the apartment without paying rent, and he knew we didn't have the money for the rent. He went on to say that he had a one room apartment above the Laundromat he owned down the street, and he could let us stay there for free. He also said that I could still do jobs for him for the money we needed for groceries, and her medicine, but just on weekdays. I can remember that this was another time Mama cried as she thanked the landlord for his caring for us. He told her that someone once helped him when he needed a helping hand, and he felt he should do something for us. He came by the next day and helped us move. Mama was still strong enough to walk and help pack up a few things."
Mark once again stopped in his narration, and Tom found himself tied in knots. It was hard for him to hear the story, and yet Mark had lived it. He couldn't imagine how frightening it had to have been for Mark. He was grateful that there had been someone to care what happened to Mark and his mother. He placed his hand on the hand Mark had resting on his knee as a silent reassurance and encouragement to go on.
After a few moments, Mark continued. "Things were okay in that small apartment for a while. They weren't great, but they weren't bad either. Mama didn't get any worse for a while, and we enjoyed every minute we could together. I'd come home, and get dinner before going to our old apartment building to work. Then I'd come home, and do my homework. I'd read my reading assignment to her just like before, and if she wasn't too tired she'd tell me a story before bedtime. She'd sit with me while I said my prayers, and then we'd say our goodnights. But once she'd leave my room, I'd say my other prayer; the one I couldn't say in front of her because it would upset her. I'd ask God to make her well because I didn't want her to die."
"After we had been at the new apartment for a few months, Mama started to get worse. I needed to be with her more and more. I told Mr. Miller that I couldn't work as many hours after school, but could come for a few hours on Saturdays and Sundays to make it up. He let me come on Saturdays, but not on Sundays. He told me to spend those days with Mama. And I know he paid me more than the little bit of work I did for him was worth, but we were thankful for that. Mr. Miller even talked to his wife, and she would sit with Mama while I was gone at school or working. She said she didn't have anything to do now that her kids were gone, and would love the company. I was just grateful I didn't have to leave Mama alone. Mama got so sick that she slept more than she was awake, and she was always so weak. She couldn't even take her medicine any more, and she couldn't eat without getting sick. Mrs. Miller sat down with me, and told me she thought Mama would not live much longer. I didn't want to hear it even if I knew it was true," Mark said.
"I went to tell Mr. Miller that I couldn't work for him any more, that my Mama needed me at home. He paid me one last time, and gave me a bonus for being a hard worker. He told me to give his wife a list of the things I needed from the store, and she would go for me. I gave her the list and some money, and she brought back a whole bunch of things. Told me the store was having a great sale. I was just glad there was plenty of groceries for a while. I was staying home with Mama and not going to school anymore. I didn't care about that; I'd worry about it later. Mrs. Miller still came every day, and fixed meals and sat with me while I sat with or laid beside Mama. I'd tell her I loved her, and hold on to her," the ex-con said, his voice cracking from emotion.
Tom silently sent up a prayer of thanks for the Millers and the care they showed Mark and his mother. He could not bear to think of how much harder this would have been had they not been there, and helped out. He knew this was more than a young child should deal with alone. He gave Mark's hand another squeeze to assure him he was still there. He wanted to cry for Mark, but knew the sign of compassion would be the ex-con's undoing, and he needed to get to the end of the story first.
"Mother's Day was coming, and I wanted to do something special for Mama. I know she was sick, and probably wouldn't even know I had done anything, but I felt I had to. I told Mrs. Miller how I felt, and she understood. On Mother's Day she went to the florist for me, and bought a bouquet of roses for Mama. Then she brought them and put them on the dresser beside Mama's bed. I got into bed with her, which I did a lot, and I told her that I loved her. I told her that it was Mother's Day, and I had gotten her something," Mark said. He could barely go on, but was almost to the end.
After a moment, Mark went on. "I kept telling her the same things over and over. After a little while, she woke up, and looked at me. Her eyes weren't distant like they had been for a long time. They were clear and bright like they used to be. She smiled at me, and told me she loved me too. Then she said she could smell roses, and I told showed her the roses I got her. She told me they were almost as beautiful as those bouquets I always brought her before. I hugged her and told her that I loved her. She told me that she loved me too. Then she touched my medal, and told me that she would never be far from me, and that if I ever missed her and wanted to remember her, to touch the medal, and I'd know she was always with me." Mark's hand which had never released it's grip on the medal, fingered it once as he tried to gain the strength to continue his tale.
So, that's why the medal is so important to you. Not only did she give it to you, but it's a connection to her; a way to physically remind yourself of her presence, Tom thought as he watched Mark cling to his link to his mother. He remained silent as he waited for Mark to go on.
"I tried not to cry, but I didn't want to think about her being gone. I held her close and told her that I didn't want her to die. She told me she didn't want to either; that she wanted to stay with me and watch me grow up, but it was not for us to decide. She told me to always remember that I was her treasure, and she would be watching from heaven. I told her I'd never forget her, and I'd always love her. I looked up, and there was one tear on her cheek. She kissed my cheek, and said she loved me as she went to sleep. I laid down with her, and an hour later, she died. Twenty one years ago today," Mark said, finishing his story, his voice barely above a whisper at the end. The tears he had tried to hold back were now flowing down his cheeks.
Tom was also unable to keep tears from falling from his eyes. His heart went out to his younger brother. She died on Mother's Day. To lose her on the day you're supposed to celebrate them. It's hard enough for me with Mom's death being in March, but it's not on a holiday, and certainly not on Mother's Day. And this year, they're once again on the same day. It's had to have been hard knowing the day was coming, and it was on Mother's Day again. Oh, Mark, I wish I had asked you before, Tom thought as he tried to find the words to help the ex-con. The only thing he could think to do was go to him, and so he did. The ex-Marine took the younger man into his arms, and held him while they both cried for the small child that had been through so much, and the mother who died so yopung and never got to see her child grow up.
After a few minutes, Tom felt Mark shifting, and released him.
Mark was still struggling with his emotions, but felt better than he had in a while. He knew it had helped to share his memories with someone.
Tom decided that something should be said to acknowledge what Mark had shared. "Mark, I'm so sorry that she died when you were so young, and that it happened on Mother's Day," he said.
The ex-con smiled a sad smile, and said, "Thanks, for understanding, and for listening."
"I'm just glad I decided to come talk to you. I know it was good to share my memories of Mom with you," Tom said.
"I haven't talked to anyone about Mama since I lived with my uncle after she died, and he busted me every time I said anything about her or cried. But it felt good to tell you. Thanks for caring," Mark said.
Tom had an immediate surge of anger at the mention of Mark's uncle, and he remembered what Mark had told him about the man. He pushed those feelings aside to deal with what was important now. "You're part of my family now, and that's what family is for. We each help one another through the bad times, and we share the good times as well. That includes things from the past," Tom replied.
"I sure got lucky when I came here. Last thing I thought I'd find was a family," Mark stated.
"Well, I think Dad and I got pretty lucky to find you too. You're someone I'm proud to call my brother. I love you, Mark," Tom said.
The ex-con was embarrassed by the praise, but met the ex-Marines eyes, and said, "I'm proud to have you as my brother, too. And I love you, too."
The two young men talked for a while longer. They shared more memories of their mothers, some comical, some serious, but all treasured.
00000
The judge was getting ready to go get the two young men for dinner when they walked in the door. The older man looked at his two sons, and noticed that both seemed to be relaxed and happy. He could see signs of tears on both men's faces, but knew that it can be good to let the feelings out. He glared at both men, and said gruffly, "About time you two showed up."
Mark walked over to the judge, and said, "I love you, too, Dad." He then gave him a quick embrace, and walked into the kitchen.
The older man was surprised by the ex-con's behavior, and looked to Tom for an explanation.
"I'm glad I decided to talk to him. He really needed someone to talk to today," the younger man said softly. At his father's understanding nod, he asked, "Did you know she died on Mother's Day?"
The jurist was shocked, and it showed on his face. He quickly looked toward the kitchen, and then back at his son. "No, the file doesn't say when she died, just how old he was, and he's never talked about it."
"Well, she died today, to be exact. And he's never talked about it because his uncle hit him if he so much as mentioned her, and he's just kept it to himself ever since," Tom answered.
The judge knew about Mark's uncle, but this new piece of information was new to him. He felt his temper rise, and had to fight for control. He reminded himself that Mark's uncle was in the past, and he would not hurt Mark again. He regained his composure, but wanted to comfort his youngest son, who had carried this alone for so many years. He started for the kitchen.
Tom had placed a restraining hand on his father's arm when he saw him becoming angry, and said, "Dad, he talked about a lot of things today, and I know it did a lot of good. Don't pressure him, and I'm sure he'll talk to you when he's ready. He's still learning how this family thing works, but I think talking to him today helped."
The older man studied his son, and nodded. "Okay, I'll let him come to me when he's ready. He's not alone anymore; he has family that love him and want to take his pain away."
"Now yer cookin'," Tom replied, and laughed.
The jurist laughed with his son, clapped hi on the shoulder, and said, "Let's get in there and get something to eat before that brother of yours eats it all."
The two men walked into the kitchen, each determined that Mark would never face another Mother's Day alone, and without their support and love.