Open Question: PLEASE READ! CRITIQUE…COMMENT..ANYTHING…?
?What do you think you?re doing? Go to bed!? She barked.
?Mom,? I whispered, approaching her with hesitation. She glared at me, condescending and disregarding at the same time. ?Mom,? I repeated, this time louder. ?I know how Grandma died.?
?Oh really? You know, so do I. Cancer invaded her lungs and killed her.? Her voice cut me like a knife running through a cube of ice. For a moment I was shocked, almost pained at how similar we were. I could envision myself giving much the same answer to the lovely Miss Lara some day.
?No. She could have, would have survived the cancer. It was something else, much stronger than disease.? I spoke slowly, aware that at any minute her emotions could reverse and this could turn into a screaming match. But I waited patiently, watching her eyes go from indignant to annoyed to confused to curious. I didn?t even need her aura for that. The emotions were raw, plain on her face.
?What exactly have you been up to??
I took a seat at the kitchen table, cringing at its frigid surface beneath my forearms. I traced the veins of the granite under my fingers, searching for an answer. The maze of crystals and rocks wound endlessly through the slab of stone, intertwining and flowing seamlessly from one chunk of color to the next. The detail was spectacular, but natural. It was so complicated, but so very simple, just as I needed to be.
And so I told my tale for the second time that night, this time extended with personal comments and a question from my mother about every three seconds. When she finally ran out of questions, it was well past midnight. We sat in semi-darkness, gazing at each other intently.
?I always knew,? she murmured, voice quavering and lip quivering. For the first time in years, we hugged. Her arms were warm and comforting as she gripped me fiercely. I buried my head in her shoulder, letting the tears flow. I cried for forgiveness, for realization, for joy, for hope, and for my inevitable destiny.
After a timeless stretch of love, we released each other, sniffling meekly. A single stream of moonlight fell through the sliding glass doors, casting the kitchen in a silver glow. The same silver that shone around my new friend, the same silver that had saved my life today, and the same silver that had repaired my broken heart, filling the patch where a mother belonged.
you tell me

Fri, 23 Jan 2009 04:13:42 GMT

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