Olives, Saltwater, and Honey

1

Every memory I have of my mother is burned into my brain so as to never forget a single, minuscule detail. I remember her brown eyes that always made my heart warm, the way her voice sounded as she sang to me or told me stories of the Gods. I remember the way that she smelled, and the whisper of her lips on my forehead. Life before she died was Heaven. My father and her loved a love that I had always hoped I could have. They watched the sun rise each morning, sang praises and hymns to the Gods. They laughed together, cried together, and held each other on such high pedestals that as a young girl I was convinced they were Gods themselves. Being as young as I was I didn't realize that they also made love each and every night. It wasn't until I was older and knew what love making was when I realized the light murmurs and whimpers I heard from the bedroom my parents shared were telltale signs. As gruesome as it is to picture my life givers partaking in such sensual acts I can't help but feel warmth at the thought. The love they shared was so unbearably large that each and every night it burst out of their souls with an insatiable lust for the touch of each other's skin.

They raised me to be smart, and keep my wits about me, to be independent and creative, but they made it a point to instill in me a love so deep for the Gods above that in even my darkest moments in life I could not turn my back to them.

My mother enjoyed going down to the boat docks to help see the fisherman off in the morning. She was a very kind and very giving woman. But if given the opportunity to go back in time and keep her way from the docks, I would not hesitate. On a morning not particularly different than any other my mother rose before dawn, gave me a kiss of my forehead, and promised me she would be back before I awoke. This happened to be the only promise she had ever broken. I awoke to a deep rumbling sob coming from the kitchen. I groggily trudged from my bed to investigate with all the curiosity of a young eleven year old girl. I found my father hunched over the kitchen table sobbing.

"Patera? What's wrong?" I shied towards him.

His sobs grew uncontrollably almost making the house shake with their intensity.

"Patera? Where is mitera?" I realized my mother’s arms were not wrapped around my father.

"PATERA!" I yelled in my young, shrill voice.

He looked up at me, silently. His face covered with the fresh sheen of tears. He looked up wildly at first as if he hadn't known I was standing in front of him, and then altogether the life faded from his eyes. I was startled. Eyes that I had known as warm and filled with exuberance had suddenly become empty, distraught... cold.

"Patera?" I whispered.

He whispered, I could hear no sound around me except for his throaty babble.

His eyes searched mine and before I could react he was out of his chair and crushing me against his body.

"She drowned! She drowned! She didn't know how to swim! No one saved her! No one saw her, no one saved her! No one! She drowned! She's dead she's dead!" My father, my once strong and seemingly invincible pateras was hysterical and I was in shock.

My mother wasn't dead? How could she be? She had promised me she would be home. She was just walking home. She stayed later than usual, that's all. And even after my father’s arms went limp around and he trudged off to sob in his bed I sat by the door. I sat and I waited. I waited and waited until the sun was nearly setting.

"Mitera?" I whispered into nothingness.

I had an epiphany and thought perhaps she had gotten lost, or maybe she had stopped by the market to get things for dinner. I stood up so quickly I almost fell over. I left my home and walked through our village.

"MITERA!" I yelled through the streets of the village.

People stared at me in pity, knowing exactly what had happened.

"Eos." Someone behind me said softly.

I turned praying they would tell me where to find my mother. The stranger had sad eyes. He grabbed my hand gently.

"I'm looking for my mother!" I cried trying to pull away from him.

"Eos, she's gone. This early into the death she is awaiting judgment in Erberus. But you know that she was the one of the kindest and nicest people to live. She will reside in Elysium to be pampered for the rest of time. Please do not grieve, for she is better off there than any of us are here." He said gently.

"SHE DIDN'T DIE!" I screamed at him, hitting him with as much force as I could muster.

I felt the force of a large hand grasp my shoulder and pull me away and immediately knew that my father was behind me.

"Thank you for your kind words, Akakios. But she is too young to understand." My father nodded at the stranger.

We walked home in silence.