A Bit Of Me

Cloudy Blue Eyes

***This may be a trigger to some people. I would like to warn that just in case.***

        The smell of fresh cut grass filled the air as Daddy cut the lawn with his oversized riding lawn mower. As I sat on Daddy’s lap, I could hear him humming something over the buzzing sound of the lawn mower. It was a familiar tune I have heard. I think Momma used to sing it to me when I was a little baby. I turned to look at him. His eyes were almost the same as Momma’s, although hers were more of a cloudy summer sky instead of Daddy’s clear sky. He once said to me that I had her eyes. I tried to look in the mirror to see whose eyes I have, but I think I have more of Daddy’s eyes. Maybe it's because I see his eyes more.

        The smell of popcorn surrounded Daddy and me. Sitting on his lap, we watched “Spongebob”, as Momma sat in the corner of the old, gray, padded couch, keeping herself from the rest of the world, only focusing on work. Daddy crunched on the over-microwaved popcorn. He said I couldn’t have any because the seeds would hurt my teeth. I said no fair but that didn’t change his mind. He made a funny joke about squidward and I smiled showing all of my teeth. He once said to me that I have the same smile as Momma. I wouldn’t know, Momma never smiles.

        The smell of chocolate chip pancakes swarmed the air as Daddy and I cooked breakfast. Momma was still in bed even though it was 11:45. I couldn’t blame her though, on the weekends I slept in until 10:30. It beat having to wake up at 6:15 to catch the bus at 7:30 so I didn’t miss a single day of seventh grade. Daddy tossed me the spatula so I could flip the pancakes. Daddy said I got my cooking skills from Momma, yet rarely do I ever see her cook. I flipped the pancakes trying to remember the last time I saw Momma cook.

        The smell of hairspray filled my room as Daddy walked in. A single, warm tear fell down his face from his clear, sky blue eyes. He quickly wiped away the tear so he couldn’t show how he felt. My short, strapless, navy blue dress was hanging on the top of my door with the clear plastic bag over it to keep it clean. Momma was in the living room reading Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire. Daddy said she is missing a big part of my life. He always thought that homecoming was important. I continued to do my hair like Momma taught me. I finished the braided messy side bun and finished with more hairspray. Daddy said I could do my hair like Momma did, but she only ever wears it down covering her face.

        The smell of coffee filled the air as Daddy read the newspaper. I sat across the table on my laptop doing a paper for Professor Gilden. He asked me what I was working on. I told him a persuasive essay for school. The sound of the rushing water filling the tub told me Momma is taking yet another bath this week. She has been in there for a while, yet, Daddy puts it off as alone time. He says she needs time to think. As I fake a smile and try to get back to my essay, anxiety for Momma lingers in the back of my mind. I keep reciting Daddy’s words- she needs time to think, but for some reason they’re not as convincing.  To take my mind off of Momma I suggested we make chocolate chip pancakes again like old times. I closed my laptop and told him I would work on my essay later. He told me I work quietly and diligently just like her.

        The smell of cold rain coming through the windows swarmed the air as I walked through the doors of the house. Walking through the kitchen when you first enter, I made my way to the living room. Noticing the rain splatters on the furniture, I shut the windows before anything else got ruined. Tracing my hand across the hallway making my way to the guest room I noticed how unbelievably quiet it was. I had not been here since last summer. College has been a lot recently. Especially with a job on top of it. Since Daddy was at work I wanted to surprise him, as same with Momma. Since I didn’t see any of her work files in the living room I thought she was at work also. Passing Momma and Daddy’s room, out of the corner of my clear blue eye, I saw Momma lying on the floor. Making my way over to Momma I was careful not to make any big creaking noises on the hardwood floors so I didn't wake her. I figured that she had a long day at work and just fell asleep. But her work files were nowhere in sight. Slowly making my way toward her I saw her blood, in an area close to her wrists. Turning them over I saw where the source of the blood was from. I put my hand down to her neck to check for a pulse, like they taught me in school as I begin balling my eyes out, in fear that i have just lost my mother. I felt no pulse, which told me there was not much I could do. I didn't know if I should call Daddy, or the police, or just someone to come and help. I sat in shock, asking myself where I went wrong. What if I would’ve paid more attention? What if I saw the signs earlier? What if I didn’t leave for college? What if… What if I spent more time with her instead of Daddy?

        The smell of flowers filled the church as Daddy and I said our final goodbyes to her. I looked at the pictures on the poster board. Daddy was right, her smile was just like mine, same with her eyes, which once was a clear blue instead of Momma’s cloudy blue. One picture stood out to me in a particular way. It almost looked like me on that picture. Her cloudy eyes looked up at the camera as she sat at the table diligently doing her work, as I did, smiling. Now looking at it, was she faking all those smiles? She would never be able to smell fresh cut grass after Daddy cut it. Never be able to smell buttered popcorn as Daddy and I curled up on the couch watching our favorite TV show. The fun of making chocolate chip pancakes will never be the same knowing Momma will never be able to smell them when she wakes up, nor will she be able to smell Daddy’s coffee. Momma will never be able to smell her hairspray when she does her hair. Even to this day, I can’t put into words the indescribable feeling of seeing Momma on the floor. Her cold arms never to give another hug. Her thin lips never to smile that beautiful smile. Her cloudy eyes never to be clear. Then again, did she ever hug? Did she ever actually smile or did those cloudy skies everclear? Looking back upon it, maybe she died long before I saw her on the floor that day. I was just too oblivious to notice.