100 poems and short stories

2. The Philosophy of Motherhood

"My apologies for your loss, Esme."

"I'm sorry you had to face her death."

One after the other, members of my family came up to me with sorrow on their faces, repeating the same sentence in different formulations. I think I'll remember that day all my life. It ensued as a result of your overdose of medication pills, a year ago, precisely, but my memory is as clear as if it had occurred yesterday.

Ah, mother... Why did you leave us so early? Papa blames it on your lack of bravery. I know you didn't do it because of that. You couldn't suffer the ongoing pain of Alzheimer: not remembering your own family, your origins, not even me, your daughter. I admit that it was painful to visit you each week when my face reminded you of nothing. No memories, nothing. But I still wish you would have lived for an eternity... Eternity, as your name itself indicates us. Or at least, I wish I could engulf myself with Papa and Valentino in a parallel world where death was eradicated. Actually, maybe not Papa. You wouldn't approve of him, Mama. Each night, he returns home, devoid of emotion, pestering alcohol. Valentino hastily tried to stop him, alas, he was obdurate, rendering the task impossible. His mental situation has aggravated itself since your death...

Courtney, that's the name of the woman he brought back. Courtney spoilt me, cuddled me and behaved motherly. It only taught me what family really was. You loved me with all your heart; she only loves me for the sake of Papa. Mama, you can't be replaced, nor can dad or Valentino. Your blood flows in my veins, not anyone else's. Your genes are mine, not anyone else's. The way you acted towards me is impossible to replicate by anyone else. You are unique.

I gawk at my slender figure in the mirror. My unlady-like legs, curly red hair, thin facial features stare right back at my green orbs. When I close my eyes, it's you I observe. You: your towering body, the striking resemblance of our faces, posture, everything. Even our names, Esme and Eternity. You were my one and only. Like my soulmate. And now, you've disappeared. Forever.

Valentino nods his head. It is time. Valentino has become an older brother to be proud of. At fifteen years old, six years older than myself, he's acquired responsibilities an adult would have in his thirties. Our common friend, Mae, helped us with our situation. We owe her a lifetime. Mae... She belongs to another type of family. The one which you aren't related through your DNA, but mentally. Our different characters fit together as puzzle pieces would.

"Tell him. Don't be afraid. It's best for your future, his and Esme's." Mae encouraged Valentino. He slacked an arm over her shoulder and kissed her temple. She starts blushing, a crimson red tinting her pale cheeks. Something is happening between them... I can't quite figure out what. A weird kind of affection.

"You're too young to understand." Valentino patted my head.

After this encounter, he brought some news home. We would be doing it. It. Cross your fingers and hope it works out Mama.

"Dad." calls Valentino with his deep, manly voice. Thinking of how two years ago he was speaking like a girl... Can you believe it Mama? Time flies away. Once it is gone, there's no turning back.

"Mmm..." groans Dad incoherently, clearly wasted.

I fumble with my flimsy laces and avert my gaze in pure disgust as he lays sloppy kisses on Courtney's collarbone and rummages his hands through her shirt.

"Send her away."

"No!" He snarls, retorting to Valentino's previous order. The sudden sharpness in his voice puts Valentino on an edge while he protectively places an arm around my shoulder.

"We both know you want to fill Mama's place up!" My older brother seethes.

"Leave!" Dad barks, crawling with anger. Courtney doesn't flinch, sprawled on the bed and too drunk to react.

"Papa, why do you do it?" I sob spontaneously.

I don't understand. Why is he yelling at us? I'm frightened. Mama, help me... Please. By throwing a quick glance over to an infuriated Valentino, I can tell he's internally going barbaric. Feeling pathetic, my bottom lip quivers. Papa's tone softens and, contrarily to my previous thoughts, he pulls me into a hug. It must be due to my childishness or his pity.

"I'm sorry, little Esme. You haven't deserved this. I wanted to forget..."

Dear Mama,

It's at the mature age of fourteen I come to understand this scene. Fear was invading Papa. This fear provoked by the will to escape reality, the will to remember every single part of you, the will to never neglect a detail, but at the same time, the will to forget the events of your death. He drank to lose his memory however wanting to keep it all at the same time.

Really, what would life be without any obstacles? Face them. Fight them. Rise. Don't cower back. Besides, your family will always stick by your side. That's the help life has handed to you. If they aren't there, it's your job to remind them. They might as well be facing times of need themselves.

So Mama, I learnt to live with what happened to you. We all have. More or less with the help of our dearest family.

I love you. Always have, always do, always will whether you are amongst us or not anymore.

Esme xoxo.

PS: Papa was wrong. You didn't die due to your lack of bravery. Not at all. You pushed aside your own fears and defeated the fear of humankind.

Death.    

-------------------------

First short story... What are your opinions?

Remember to vote and comment!!

See you next time :P