Krabbe Cakes

Chapter 5

My favourite thing about you has always been how you smell.

       The sweet lavender mixed with the citrus shampoo you used every morning pleased me as a child but you will never understand just how much more your smell meant to me at the age of 15 onward.

       When I lost my sight, I had to rely on my other senses, like smell. You reach a point where smells become attributed to things. Freshly cut grass and a flowery aroma coupled with the feel of warm sun on your skin becomes summer. Pine trees and fresh cookies out of the oven turn into Christmas. Sirens and the rumble of cars signify a city.

       You learn to stop seeing and start seeing. Seeing things for everything more they are than a simple shape filled in with colour.

       And you, mom, became a mixture of lavender, citrus and the way you smack your lips when you're lost in thought or how you always stride with a sense of purpose.

       It was also how you sacrificed your career, friends, and personal time to sit by me at the hospital. Test after test, we all grew more frustrated; not just you and me, but Tara and Dad too.

       Why couldn't they just know? They were doctors after all. To add to the pressure, you had worked here in the ER for quite a while so everyone just wanted to help out a friend.

        It took three months from when I first fell unconscious to finally get a diagnosis. It wasn't a good one but of course had it been a good one, I wouldn't be writing this letter. I don't have to tell you that it wasn't good. Not very good indeed.

       I digress. My favourite story that you've ever told me is the one of how you and Dad met. Call me girly, but even it makes my insides tingle. Childhood best friends, separated so young but always together in spirit. Yes, you already know the story, but I wanted to write it down for posterity because as much as it is your story, it's also the closest thing I will ever come to love in my lifetime.

       And let's be real, your memory is going to go south before your hair turns grey, Mom. :)

       Up until the age of 11 it was always Harriet and Ivan against the world. Harriet falls at the playground, Ivan valiantly jumps in front of her to spare her the humiliation of being tagged 'it'. Ivan doesn't know the answer in the weekly spelling pop quiz? Good thing Harriet and he spent 3 hours learning a secret code to help in that specific situation.

       Unfortunately, at the age of 11, Ivan and his family moved to Europe in order for his father to continue with his work. Fortunately, all Ivan wanted was to get back to his home country and pursue his dream of optometry and 10 years later he did. Coincidentally at the very same school Harriet found herself.

       Of course it wasn't all sparks and love right from there. Harriet had been involved with her then boyfriend for four years and was hardly considering the notion to leave him for a man she hardly knew.

        But time has a habit of changing minds, feelings and choices. In a whirlwind of a romance, others feared that Ivan and Harriet would fade fast and fleetingly. But at some point, a smart human did say that 'true love conquers all'.

        I hope Mom, that when I die, you don't forget about Ivan. Nor Ivan you. You need to remember that, because once upon a time, I too believed wholeheartedly that I was invincible. 

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       Truth be told, Olivia and I didn't talk much on the car ride home. Not to say it was awkward, but I was on edge and with all her sighing she clearly wasn't in the mood for small talk. I was out of practice with that sort of thing anyway.