Literary Harts

10. Miss You

            Mami's car had been parked outside the house.

It was three hours away from midnight. Normally she would've been getting ready for bed, but her bedroom light had still been open. I could've easily called to make sure that she would be awake, but I was willing to take the risk. It would only show her how sorry I had been for making her cry.

With Trae's help, he grabbed the easel he kept tuck in his truck. He opened and placed it right on the walkway that led directly to the front door. He then grabbed the canvas that I painted on and placed it onto the easel for me. He later positioned the covering over it. To finally give it the final touches, bright white lamps we had used to give the mural a dazzling shine to it. After doing so, he ran into his car and called Mami. Since she wouldn't pick up my calls, I was hoping that she would at least pick up his.

"Hey Ms. Diaz, are you home?" He asked her while pointing a thumbs at me.

When he had hung up, her footsteps grew louder by the second.

Something I always remembered about Mami is that loved a spectacle. When it came to expressing love, she was fond when the expression had been loud itself. She believed that if someone is willing to love you, they'll make sure that their love is loud enough to always be heard.

When the door had been opened wide, the sounds of new Edition's Can You Stand The Rain had echoed from the basses within Trae's car. He sat by with a smile as my apology towards Mami had unfolded.

Like Papi would always do, whenever he fussed with Mami and made her sad, he would use New Edition as a way to make her day shine a little brighter.

Mami remained stunned at the door as I unveiled the canvas to her. The look on her face had been priceless. Her hands had covered her mouth as tears came pouring in while she remained in absolute shock. Even if she couldn't forgive me for what I had said, I just needed to know how sorry I'd been for making her feel as if having me was a mistake in itself.

Her steps grew slower as she walked toward the mural only to have her memory come rushing back in. She touched all over it, and saw the beauty that I had painted. When she had forgotten all about that photo of her, I had been the one to bring it back to her.

My tears had ran with no intensions of stopping.

"Mami, I'm so-so-so sorry. I mean it, I shoul—" My words had stopped itself when I had suddenly found myself in her arms struggling to breathe. She wrapped tightly around me while she cried over me. In my moment of disbelief, I had succumbed and did the same. There were no words between us, only our emotions. The tension that we felt no longer existed.

At that moment, Mami finally saw the power in what my drawings could do. The overwhelming joy, the influx of sadness, and the beauty that was felt all around—she saw my art as an extension of me rather than something that could be put on and off like a coat. It seemed in her moment of solitude she had been trying to find the words to apologize to me. She felt that my explosion was the result of her negligence of my feelings.

Even if that were the case, the blame couldn't had been entirely all on her as if I hadn't played my part. Mami was trying to look out for me and I was being unreasonable. I've been so caught up with wanting to bring my art to life that I don't even know where to start. Mami knew that she wasn't able to succeed at life that all she wanted was for me to do the one thing that she couldn't.

What Mami hadn't known is that in my eyes, she did something wonderful with her life—she became my mother.That itself was a blessing in every way possible.