Mother's Day
"Mom? You up here?"
The handsome fair-haired man climbed the attic steps, wondering where his headstrong and lively mother had disappeared to. The pulled-down staircase and dim light bulb glowing above had guided him in this direction.
He reached the top of the stairs and crouched into the opening of the dusty attic. He found her kneeling next to an old trunk, looking through items, quite lost in her surroundings. She stopped rummaging and opened a small velvet box, removing something quite small. She absently fingered the object in the palm of her frail hand.
"Mom? Everything okay?" he asked gently, and she was suddenly aware of her son's presence behind her.
"Oh, David… yes, I'm fine… you startled me," she said a little flustered. "I was just reminiscing a bit, that's all," she said and smiled. "Special occasions and family gatherings have a way of making me think about the past, I suppose."
She turned back to rearrange some items, and tried to quickly return the small object to the velvet box. But her son kneeled beside her and put his hand over hers to stop her.
"Not so fast. What is that?" he asked. She sighed and slowly opened up her unsteady palm, revealing an aged bullet, of all things. "A bullet?" he remarked in surprise.
She tried to laugh it off. "Silly me, I guess sometimes I get sentimental about my former life," she said.
Whenever she referred to her "former life," her son knew she meant a mysterious period of time that she hardly ever talked about-- before she moved to Tybee Island off coastal Georgia, before she married and had children. Her family only knew vague details about her childhood and early adult life in northern Louisiana. The past always hung like a shadow over her, and she tried to avoid its hold on her as best she could.
"Sentimental about a bullet, Mom?" David asked. "Were you like Wonder Woman or a trained assassin long ago? he joked.
"Something like that," she replied casually. She went to close the trunk lid but was stopped again by her son's hand.
"Let me see what else is in here," he said in a determined way. She looked taken aback by his interest so he carefully added, "that is, if you feel like showing me."
David had always been more perceptive than most children and understood at an early age that his mother seemed reluctant to share much about her past. His uncle Jason had hinted at some strange things over the years but no one ever took him seriously, anyway. Jason's involvement with their family was minimal at best. David wondered if his mother and uncle had ever been close; it seemed that his mother considered Jason a part of the past she wanted to forget.
"I'll show you, if you'd like," the delicate old woman said. "Some old keepsakes from when you and Adele were growing up." She pulled from the trunk an old shoebox filled with handmade cards boasting stick figures decorated in crayon with faded letters; old tattered prize ribbons from art contests and school competitions; tarnished buttons from a visiting circus or county fair.
"I can't believe you kept this after all these years, Mom," the younger man remarked. He rifled through piles of pictures, finding some local newspaper clippings featuring his own sports achievements and his sister's gymnastics feats.
"I'm sure you and Donna have been keeping treasures of your own children, as well. I know that Adele keeps a big box of memorabilia in her attic. That's what parents do," she said and smiled.
David kept picking through the collection of various items and found a favorite tie belonging to his father. He took it out slowly, stared for a moment at the familiar colorful swirled design, and gently ran his fingers across the tie. He looked to his mother for her reaction and she, too, was caught up in the memory of her late husband. Nothing was said as David replaced the tie and continued searching.
Various old books, baby shoes, albums, a hideous afghan, and other assorted odd items filled the trunk. At the bottom he saw a folded white t-shirt with some kind of green design.
"Do you mind?" he gestured to his mother and she shrugged. Unfolding the shirt, he could read a washed-out 'Merlotte's' logo on the front and he looked to her questioningly.
"I used to work there when I was a young woman," she replied. "It was a bar in the town where I grew up."
"A bar? You used to work in a bar?" her son asked in amazement and then he started laughing. "I can't believe that!"
The old woman just grinned back at her son. "There's nothing wrong with being a barmaid, you know. I used to really enjoy it. And I was pretty good at it, too."
"I always suspected my mother was a woman of hidden talents," he said kindly.
She took the shirt from him and folded it carefully before returning it to the trunk and closing the lid.
"That was all a lifetime ago, or so it seems," she said. After being lost in the moment, she added firmly, "Come, our walk down memory lane is over. Is everybody here already?"
"Well, Donna and the kids were busy bringing in the food when I started searching for you. And Adele called me from the airport earlier so they should be here by now," he said, looking at his watch. "I guess all we're missing is our guest of honor."
He helped his mother get to her feet and steered her to the stairs. "I can't believe you were able to climb these stairs by yourself, Mom. You need to be more careful-- that was so dangerous."
She chuckled at her son. "Well, you know me, always living on the wild side of life." David simply rolled his eyes and tried to guide his frail mother carefully back down the steps.
When they reached the floor, they could hear the laughter and chatter of children, cousins happy to see one another again. The adults were congregating in the kitchen, busying themselves with wine and appetizers, catching up on recent events in each others' lives.
"Hi, Mom, great to see ya! Happy Mother's Day!" Adele gave her mother a warm hug and the two women shared in the joy of the moment.
"Happy Mother's Day to you, too, Adele. Flight okay?"
"No problem. It's always such a breeze getting through the Savannah airport compared to the craziness of O'Hare," she said. "And it's always good to be home."
The afternoon progressed pleasantly with much lively conversation and plenty of good southern comfort food, with time to unwind on the back deck overlooking the beach. The five grandchildren frolicked through the sand as the adults watched and relaxed, enjoying the warm breeze and setting sun.
After everyone settled back in the house, Adele carried in a large birthday cake, much to the older woman's surprise. "What's this?" she asked.
"Well, Michael and I and the kids knew we wouldn't make it back here for your birthday so we thought we'd combine things and celebrate it with Mother's Day. Besides, July 1st is not so far away," she added with a wink.
They gathered around a decadent-looking double layer chocolate cake and began singing "Happy Birthday and Mother's Day to you…" The honoree was clearly moved by the gesture and fought back tears as her loved ones continued to sing.
The cake was adorned with eight flaming candles, one for each decade of her life. "Make a wish, Grandma!" the youngest grandson chimed in. She stood before the cake, closed her eyes, and reached back into her soul for what she wished for the very most…
On this special Mother's Day, as on all previous ones, she said a silent prayer in memory of the unfortunate mothers in her family who never experienced the happiness and fulfillment in life that she had:
Her grandmother, who lost both of her children before her and met a violent, tragic end;
Her mother, who never had the chance to watch her children grow up, an innocent casualty in a senseless fairy battle;
Her aunt Linda, who died young from cancer, never repairing the broken relationship with her wild daughter;
Her cousin Hadley, who never got to know the wonderful son she left behind, and who died twice, a victim of vampire jealousy;
And finally, her cousin Claudine, who bravely fought to the end, losing her life and that of her unborn baby's, in a war that was both barbaric and meaningless.
She wished that they could all be with her today, still part of her family, still sharing in the joys that motherhood could bring.
"What did you wish for, Grandma?" the young boy asked, bringing his grandmother back to the present once again.
"Now if I tell you my wish, then it won't come true!" the wise old woman replied.
Her aging eyes scanned the room, drinking in the precious loved ones surrounding her—her children, their spouses, her grandchildren. All of the family she had so desperately wanted and had gotten because of the sacrifices and choices she made long ago. And she realized that she would always carry a part of her lost loved ones within her. They were all here today, living on through the people standing before her.
Birthday wishes do come true.