Broken Vows

Chapter 10

Athena

A few days after the funeral, Papa has gathered the Moretti family, who have still not left, and here we are in the living room settled on couches. 

Waiting for Papa to speak and tell us why we are gathered around. 

"I feel like it is time to read Athena's will." Papa begins the will in his hands. 

I don't want anything.

This will is nothing to me. 

Every single night when I cry myself to sleep I ask for Mama to come back but she hasn't. I don't ask for materialistic things. 

"To Aodhan, I have nothing left to give you. I gave you my heart, my soul and my life. But I'm writing this knowing one day without me you'll need something to hold on to. I've left you Athena our daughter to care for and a lock of this golden haired girl you fell in love with." Papa stops reading as tears well in his eyes. 

His body starts shaking but he controls himself knowing he has to continue. 

"To Athena. I leave a letter and a locket. I know these things are useless now but darling treasure them. I love you. Always." Papa repeats the words Mama had once written.

"To Nikolas and Julia. I leave our scrapbook which Julia and I made when we were teenagers. To laugh and cherish the moments we shared together!" I look at them both and they laugh while Julia's tears become uncontrollable. This scrapbook must mean a lot to both of them. 

"To Romero, my son, I leave the nerf gun you left behind with my daughter and a letter." Romero laughs at this and a sad smile spreads across his face. 

Papa gives me the locket and handwritten letter. 

He gives Nikolas and Julia the scrapbook and he gives Romero the nerf gun and the letter.

I open the heart shaped locket and see two pictures of Mama and I. One when I was a little kid with Mama wiping the chocolate off of my face. 

And another when I was older my arms wrapped tightly around her and I was kissing her cheek. Tears blur my vision but I quickly make them disappear not to show weakness. 

This is the last memory I have of my mother. 

This and the letter. It is scary how one little thing could mean so much after someone has left your life. 

The next thing I open is the letter.

To my darling daughter Athena,

I know how much pain me leaving must have caused you. I realized that I would have failed you greatly as your mother if I did not try to ease your pain from my loss, if I didn't at least attempt to address what will likely be the greatest question of your young lives.

You will forever be the daughter whose mother died from heart problems,  have people looking at you with some combination of sympathy and pity (which you will no doubt resent, even if everyone means well). That fact of your mother dying will weave into the fabric of your lives like a glaring stain on an otherwise pristine tableau. 

You will ask as you look around at all the other people who still have their parents, Why did my mother have to get sick and die? It isn't fair, you will cry. A

nd you will want so painfully for me to be there to hug you to, to help you get dressed on your wedding day, to take your new-born babe from your arms so you can sleep.