Floating to Falling

Chapter 3

3 months after he left

We found Pibble 3 months after my father disappeared. That was a time when mama refused to leave the house. She was like a ghost, silently drifting through the halls only to get water and use the restroom. She didn't speak much, only cried. That's what she did the most, she would cry and cry, her once confident blue eyes red and puffy, empty. She seemed weak and frail, I feared that a even a gentle summer breeze would break her. Dodie was real little then, only 5, she didn't quite understand what all had happened, all she knew was that old Ms.Henderson, our neighbor, was the one to bring us a big, warm dinner every night. She'd hobble in, with sad merciful eyes and a fake smile plastered on her old face. She'd bring with her big casserole dishes in her wrinkled, fat arms. She told us she was tryin' to put a little meat on mamas bones, help her replace what she had lost in her heart. Dodie would often ask why her daddy wasn't coming home from work, and she'd be answered with a deafening silence. No one had the heart to explain. We would tell her that her dad was simply gone,and probably not coming back. That it wasn't her fault, and it was okay to be sad and angry, but not to let it tear her apart, not to let it rid her of her beautiful, sweet disposition. The type of things you tell to a kid when their dad ups and leaves them behind. Yet every day she'd sit stubbornly on the front porch til' sunset waiting for his old Cadillac to sputter into the dirt driveway. It never did, yet for another 2 months she waited. Her eyes glued onto the road, her head held high and hopeful. It tore me apart watching her from the kitchen window.
It was from that same window I witnessed a basset hound puppy, plump as a pumpkin but tiny all the same, flop tiredly onto our porch. I was making a peanut butter sandwich for lunch as the dirty thing started to gnaw on the tip of the worn down welcome mat that had been sitting on our front porch for as long as I could remember. It perked up it's long, heavy ears as a fly landed quietly on it's head, and with a loud bark it was up and running about on our porch, jumping into the air, playfully snapping it's teeth in failed attempts to catch the fly, which had long since lazily flown away. With one last eager jump, the dog collapsed in a heap by the front door, panting with exhaustion. It was then Dodie came skipping from the living room, heading outside to get the mail. I was still distracted by the little ball of fur on our porch when she pulled open the door and just like that the dog had hopped up and was excitedly running through our kitchen, leaving behind muddy foot prints on the white tiled floors. With an excited shriek Dodie jumped onto the nearest chair, laughing madly at the dogs clumsy attempt to lick my fingers. I smiled down at it, as it struggled, desperately trying to reach my fingers still coated lightly with peanut butter, I leaned down, letting it slobber over my hand, messily licking off the remaining peanut butter. With ease I picked up the fur ball, and let it lick the butter knife I had used to make Dodie's sandwich. Mama had floated into the kitchen, silent as usual, sometime during all this commotion, and while
I was scooping out more peanut butter for the poor hungry thing, from the corner of my eye I saw mama smile. It was a weak smile yes, but it was sincere, because for a split second I saw a light in mamas dull eyes. Dodie beamed up at mama, giggling, and grabbed onto her hand, pulling her to me and the dog. "mama mama!" She exclaimed, her wild, big brown eyes beckoning to the dog. "Can we keep her?! Can we keep that lil' dog! Oh please mama please!!!" She hopped from foot to foot, still smiling at mama. With a slightly bigger smile this time, mama nodded her head. After a few minutes we had agreed Pibble was a good name, Dodie came up with it in an attempt to say the word "pebble" with a missing front tooth. That got a laugh from mama. A wonderfully genuine laugh that wrinkled the corners of her tired eyes. A laugh none of us had heard in ages. A laugh that, thankfully, we would soon start to hear more and more often as she started to become more like the strong independent, beautiful women she once was again. Yes, it would take some time, we learned that while time numbs the pain, it doesn't ever take it all away. Though, with time, comes a sort of healing you can't find anywhere else, and I guess all Mama needed was a bit of time. And once she got the time she needed, it felt like we were all floating over the sorrow that had once consumed our lives.