May's Workshop Stories

Never Forget

I wake up with a smile which is a rare thing for me.

However, after so many things have happened in the last few years with all the viruses and wars, I am just happy that today August 9th, 2023, all is well in my life and my country. Things have quieted down. I no longer have to worry about my loved ones, which makes me feel relieved. After all, it's a good day to be alive. My fears and worries are gone, and I feel alive once again.

"Melody, you are awake. Are you ready for first day of work?" my father Rayan asked, his voice slightly off.

It felt like he was trying to keep his voice upbeat, but there was a note of sadness he couldn't hide. I can't really explain it, but I can feel it in the trembling of his voice.

He is probably just nervous about my first day of work, his little girl is all grown up, and it's logical for him to feel a bit choked up. Still, considering that my job is done from a home office, I can't understand why he is so emotional about it.

"I am ready!" I exclaim excitedly as a sweat drop rolls down my father's cheek.

He must have overworked himself in the garden again to sweat so much.

"You should really work less," I say as I use my paper handkerchief to wipe off the sweat from his face, only for more to slide down quickly. It was the strangest thing ever. My father never used to sweat this much. I wonder if it's too hot outside or if he has been working too hard.

"I'll have that in mind," he says with a strange hoarse voice that has me worried he has caught a cold.

"Be careful with your health too. Your voice already sounds strange. You might be catching a cold," I say sternly, as my father often disregards his own well-being for our sake. "By the way, where is Mom? Isn't she coming to wish me good luck for my first day of work?"

Usually, she is the one to offer encouragement. Dad usually silently nods in the background since he was never good with words. Seeing him alone is strange, to say the least.

As the words left my mouth, something got into my father's eyes, and they turned red as he wiped at them ferociously, trying to remove whatever it was.

"Here, get rid of the dust with this handkerchief," I say, gently worried that his eyes might get infected if he used his hands to remove it.

"Thank you, my dear," he says, carefully wiping his eyes with a strange focus he rarely uses for small things like that. "Your mother... she...has gone to work. Yes! She had to go to an emergency meeting, but she sent me this message for you to read."

Upon reading the message, I realize it was written in a hurry as it doesn't have my mother's usual eloquence, but I still appreciate the thought. I am sad she isn't here to support and encourage me in person. Still, every little motivation helps, and I am so grateful for how much support both of my parents have given me over the years, especially considering how hard the last couple of years have been for all of us.

"Thanks, Dad," I say, kissing his cheek as I set off to the spare room that is now my office.

I plan to work on translating the book until I feel hungry enough to have breakfast, as I usually can't have it as soon as I wake up. Besides, I want to start working sooner as I have always been excited about translating books. There is something special in transferring all those feelings and lessons to be learned into another language to share with the world.

However, as I translate page by page, my enthusiasm slowly diminishes. The work I am doing feels off. It's not as enjoyable as I've always found the translation to be. It's like I have a constant sense of Déjà vu, like I have done the same thing million times before. Yet, this being my first day on the job it is impossible for me to have done it before.