From Sunrise To Sunset

Genesis 2

Margaret

"Jonathan Newton," I said to myself. I parked the car in the driveway. My heart raced as I said his name out loud. 'The man at the lighthouse' is what I used to call him on days I did not know his name.

I had been going to the lighthouse for months, and I stood alone with only the sunrise and the scent of the ocean to comfort me. It had been enough for me until he was present there one day. The first time I noted his presence, I realized that I was comforted by it. It felt good not to be the only one at the lighthouse with the pain that I carried. I felt good knowing that he hadn't disturbed me, that he had allowed me to have my moment of watching the sunrise to myself. It meant that he respected my privacy, but on the third day, I was ready for him to introduce himself. When he didn't I was disappointed. I wanted to introduce myself but decided that if he made one before I did, I'd know for certain that he was interested in knowing who I was.

I hummed to myself as I got out of the car and walked to the front of the house. I stooped down in front of the verandah to pick some fresh flowers for my mother's vase. There was a small flower garden there filled with Madonna lilies. They were my mother's favorite flowers and because they were hers, they were mine also. We used to tend to them together when I was a child. It was one of the many ways we spent time together as mother and daughter.

I picked five flowers and held them in the form of a bouquet as I brought them up to my nose. I loved their sweet, spicy scent. It made me nostalgic as it brought back memories from my childhood days. Days when my mother was well and our home was filled with joy rather than sorrow.

I stood up and made my way to the front door, then into the house and up the stairs to my parents' bedroom. The door was unlocked the same as it had always been every morning after I came from watching the sunrise. My father was helping my mother get seated in her wooden rocking chair near their bedroom window that overlooked a field of lavender. The field was about fifty meters away from our backyard. She and I had many fond memories there. She used to take me there as a child to have picnics on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes, my father would join us, but most times it was just the two of us. During those times, she told me stories of true love and said that one day, I would find someone who I would love more than life itself. She also promised to one day tell me the ultimate love story. I didn't know what it was, but it wouldn't be long before I found out.

"Good morning," I smiled as I looked at my parents.

They both smiled at me as I entered their bedroom. "Good morning, Maggie," my father said, as he pulled the curtains on the window to the sides.

My mother smiled at me and stretched her hand out weakly towards me. I walked over to her and took her hand in mine. She was still wearing her nightgown. It was a white cotton gown with long sleeves. It was her favourite.

"How's your heart today?" I asked.

"Still beating," she said, her voice weak and hoarse.

I feigned a smile and gave her hand a light squeeze.

"Sit with me," she said.

My father placed a white blanket on her, covering her from the waist down. He then brought an extra chair near the window for me to sit. I handed him the bouquet of Madonna lilies. He replaced the ones in the vase on the nightstand with them.

"I'll go get breakfast ready," he said, leaving the bedroom.

I sat on the chair next to my mother. We both stared out of the window, gazing at the field of lavender. I knew what her thoughts were, and I also knew she did not wish to share them. It made no sense to bring up something that would make us both sad and possibly ruin the whole day. When Dr. Adams informed us that my mother only had six months to live. The three of us had spent days crying about it, but on the fourth day, my mother said it was enough. She made us promise to never cry another day about her suffering. She said there was no point in it because we couldn't stop the inevitable. What we could do was take advantage of what we had, and what we had was time. No matter how short it was, we could still try to enjoy it in all the ways we possibly could, and so we did...or at least we tried to. It was also the same day that she gave me the necklace and told me it was a family heirloom. She also told me that it should symbolize her promise to not die while the sun was in the sky. I went to the lighthouse every morning and begged the sun to rise quickly because I knew that once it was in the sky, it meant I had at least one more day with her. So, every morning before sunrise I woke up early and peered into my parents' bedroom to see that she was still breathing and then I went off to see the sunrise.