Until He's Gone

Chapter Two

"Sometimes I touch the things you used to touch, looking for the echoes of your fingers."
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I woke up to find myself alone in my room. A six-year-old girl without a mother.

My eyes misted over, but I knew I wasn't alone for I had the best remembrance of mom to stay with me. Yes, it was the precious drawing of her face.

I grasped it from under my pillow and stared at it for long moments. I kissed it and felt my tears drop silently on the frame. I had no idea how to continue my life without her.

Where could she be now?

Heaven, of course.

But what was heaven? All I was told that it was a beautiful place where peace and grace took over. In heaven we are all forgiven; we feel no pain or sorrow. Heaven is the light that you cannot see but feel, and mom rested there in the bright light. I imagined her smiling, and her face shining like it had always been. Heaven was so lucky to have her.

I looked up at the ceiling and traced into the air with my little fingers Mommy I love you and then, I need you.

My rosy lips curved into a smile as I remembered the days we spent together. I remembered how she used to swing me on those late afternoons of the week, and how we'd watch the sunshine bid its goodbye, and we'd sing a song of a promising tomorrow. I closed my eyes and imagined myself flying into the air, laughing -with Mom pushing my swing - and listening to her enchanting laugh too.

I missed her.

I missed the days she had spent next to my bed when I used to be sick. I missed her fingers caressing my hair and my little nose. I missed the bedtime stories, the games, and all the fun we had. I missed it when me, mom, and dad sat down together and talked during the late evenings. They treated me as a grown up, and loved me dearly, more than anyone could.

I knew that, and I loved them more.

Above all memories, I missed it when she reached for her clarinet and played her favorite melody while I listened. She was an adept and skillful clarinetist. And every time she played, I just closed my eyes and drifted along with the melody to a world which was much better than mine; it was her world.

More than anything, I wanted mom to be next to me, and I hoped all that had happened would turn out to be an awful dream. I remembered the issues she would tell me about; the innocent and oppressed people. Perhaps she was one of those. It was painful how all the memories came to me at once and caused scars which needed years to recover. I pressed the drawing to my heart, crept under the warm bed cover, and fell asleep.

And only when I woke up the next morning, and found dad next to me – staring at me with tearful eyes- did I realize that it wasn't an awful dream.

It was an awful truth and an awful reality in my awful life.

I knew he had spent hours in the hospital with her, before she went to heaven. I noticed that from his smell; the hospital's smell. He must have taken her there that morning when the sunlight announced it safe to cross the roads of Normandy.

"Dad..." I wanted to complain more, but I wasn't able to.

"She's gone Lily," I heard him whisper sorrowfully.

Then, I burst into tears, and he did too.

He came next to me and hugged me tightly, like he always did, and glanced at the drawing in between my arms.

"Wow," he exclaimed trying to forbid his tears from dropping.

"I drew it papa," I said and wiped my tears.

He smiled and commented, "You resemble her Lily," as he brushed my hair with his fingers.

I nodded and started crying.

"Lily, I know it's hard to stop it, but crying would get us nothing. I promise you I'll always be by your side. Though only you and I are here, we won't feel the difference. We'll express our sadness through the moments we spend together. We need each other Lily darling. You are my only happiness now; my only dream. Say something, promise me we'll be content despite everything. That is our strength dear."

I couldn't say anything. My tongue was arrested by the chains of grief and disbelief in what had happened. I just hugged him tighter.

Later, I asked him if I could go to her, though the mere idea of attending her funeral frightened me. I didn't want to believe that she was really gone. I always hoped that she would be back one day, and that I'd be informed by the melody of her clarinet. She said she would always be with me. To me, meeting her wasn't impossible, and I secretly wished that the miracle would happen one day.

However, only until I found myself before her funeral, did I lose my mind completely. I found myself shaking her lifeless hands and sobbing. I thought I could've woken her up and gotten her the hell out of that box. Yet, she didn't wake, and all I could do was scream: Wake up! Talk to me!

Later that midnight, I sank into my father's arms where I felt all the warmth and care I needed. I tried to forget, but there was no way out of that.

Once you have a mother, you never stop having her, no matter how far or unseen she was.

I thought about happiness; the secret treasure everyone was looking for. Could I still find it? I had no idea if I still had the determination to do so. I took out a piece of paper and scribbled on it the following: My mother is gone, and everything is gone with her.

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I love this chapter. I hope you do too♥️
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~Mira xx