SOUL

ghost of adamma

June 25th, 2008

Marigold had always felt that her connection to the world was different from most people's. She saw things, felt things, and understood life in ways that others couldn't comprehend. And now, as she sat on the branch of the tree that separated her house from Leo's, her heart heavy with grief, she found herself yearning for the one person who had always believed in her—Adamma. She held the letter she'd written her in her trembling hand, she'd been debating opening it for a long time.

It had been weeks since the funeral, weeks since Leo had told her to stay away, and the ache in her chest hadn't eased. She missed Adamma terribly, missed her warmth, her understanding, the way she had a gentle wisdom that made Marigold feel safe. Marigold had felt so lost since she'd gone. She'd waited for Adamma to show herself and as the days passed she began to lose hope. She feared that Adamma was truly gone. It was in that moment she had grown the courage to open the letter carefully.

Dearest Marigold,

I hope this letter finds you in a moment of peace, even if it takes a little time for you to open it. I can't predict where you'll be or how you'll feel when you read this. You are stronger than you know, and you have so much to offer this world.

I'm sure things feel uncertain now, and maybe a little overwhelming. But in time, you'll understand why you were drawn to Leo, why your paths crossed the way they did. Life has a way of making sense, even if it doesn't feel that way right now. Trust me, everything will fall into place, and when it does, you'll see how extraordinary you truly are.

Mary, you have a gift—not just the ability to see things that others can't, but the ability to care, to feel deeply, and to love fiercely. I've always seen that in you, and I've always admired it. I want you to hold onto that, because the world needs more people like you. You're going to find your place, and it's going to be somewhere that fills your heart and makes you proud of who you are.

But there's something I have to ask of you. Please, look out for Leo. He's strong in ways he doesn't even realize yet, but he'll need someone by his side who understands, who can be patient with him, and who won't give up on him when things get hard. I can't be there for him the way I want to be, but I know you can. And I know you will. It gives me peace to know that someone as kind and as strong as you will be looking out for him.

Loving you has been a privilege, Mary. You've been like a daughter to me, and I can't begin to express how much joy that's brought me. You've given me hope, and I want you to know that I believe in you, more than I can say. Whatever happens, keep going. Keep being yourself. You are more extraordinary than you realize, and I'm so grateful that I got to know you and care for you.

Take good care of Leo, and take care of yourself, too. You have so much ahead of you, and I want you to embrace it with everything you've got. There's a light in you, Mary, and it's going to shine bright for a very long time.

With all my love, 

Adamma

Marigold felt something shift around her. The wind stirred the branches, carrying with it a warmth that shouldn't have been there on such a chilly night. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as a familiar presence filled the space beside her.

"Adamma?" Marigold whispered, her heart skipping a beat.

And there she was—Adamma, standing before her, glowing softly with the kind of light that wasn't of this world. She looked just as Marigold remembered her: calm, kind, and filled with that motherly warmth that made everything feel okay. Except now, there was a serenity about her that put the young girl at ease.

"Mary," Adamma's voice came softly, as though carried on the breeze itself. Her smile was gentle, and Marigold felt her eyes well up with tears at the sight of her.

"Adamma," she breathed, her voice breaking. "I've missed you so much."

Adamma's expression softened, and she stepped closer, though there was no real distance between them now. "I've always been here, watching over you."

Tears spilled down Marigold's cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly, her voice trembling. "I didn't want you to go. I—I'm so sorry"

Adamma shook her head, her gaze filled with understanding. "It wasn't your fault, Mary. Like I told you, some things are meant to happen, even if we don't understand why at the time."

Marigold swallowed hard, her chest tight with emotion. "I just... I didn't want to lose you. You were the only person who ever cared about me."

Adamma's smile grew sad but tender. "that's not true darling, you have Leo."

Marigold sniffed, wiping at her tears again. "Leo... he's so angry with me. I upset him at the funeral, and now he won't even talk to me. I feel like I ruined everything."

Adamma sighed softly, her eyes full of love as she spoke of her son. "Leo is a sensitive boy. He's grieving, and he doesn't understand how to handle all the pain he's feeling right now. But he doesn't hate you, Mary. He's just... lost, like you."

Marigold's voice was small as she asked, "What should I do?"

Adamma stepped closer, her presence a soothing balm to Marigold's wounded heart. "The best thing you can do for him right now is give him space. He needs time to heal, and sometimes, that means stepping back."

Marigold nodded without hesitation. "I feel connected to him, like I always know when something's wrong. I can't explain it, but it's like I'm meant to be there for him, even if he doesn't want me around."

Adamma smiled warmly. "You and Leo share a bond that's deeper than either of you realize. I've felt that connection too—with his father. Sometimes, we're meant to be in someone's life for a reason, even if we don't understand it fully. We stay connected to them, spiritually. It's a gift, Mary. You're meant to look out for him."

Marigold's chest tightens again. "He told me to stay away," she admitted, her voice cracking. "I don't know if he'll ever forgive me."

"Leo will come around," Adamma said gently. "He's hurting, but he loves deeply. Just give him time. And when he's ready, he'll need you."

Marigold wiped at her eyes, feeling the warmth of Adamma's words seep into her heart. She felt lighter, even as the grief still hung over her. "I promise I'll always watch out for him," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "No matter what happens."

Adamma's smile grew, filled with pride. "I know you will, Mary. You have a beautiful heart. And remember that I'm always here, looking after both of you."

Marigold nodded, taking a deep breath, feeling the connection between them even though Adamma was no longer physically there. She felt a sense of peace she hadn't felt since the funeral. She wasn't alone in this, not really.

But then, a sound startled her. A window creaked open above her, and Leo's voice called out.

"Who are you talking to?"

Marigold flinched, her heart racing as she looked up to see Leo leaning out of his bedroom window, staring down at her with confusion. She quickly wiped her eyes and sat up straighter, leaning back against the tree.

"It was... nobody," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion.

Leo frowned, narrowing his eyes, but didn't push. He disappeared back into his room, leaving Marigold alone again.

Adamma, still standing beside her, smiled softly. "Give him time, Mary," she whispered. "He'll come back to you when he's ready."

Marigold nodded, the heaviness in her chest lifting just a little. She knew that it would take time for Leo to heal, but she would be there. She would always be there for him, just as Adamma had asked.

And as she looked back to where Adamma had stood, she felt a gentle breeze brush against her skin, a final reminder that she was never truly alone.

Adamma had kept her promise—and so would she.