This afternoon, I will be dead. And when that time has come, I will have forgiven the person who destroyed my happiness the most, and maybe also hurt. Four days ago, when I discovered the precise time of my death, I made a list. The list embodied a short bucket list with things I could accomplish in three days. I went to the opening day of the Texas State Fair, tested my fear of heights in zip lining, and spent 100 dollars on sandwiches, to be given out to the homeless citizens of St. Louis.
Here I am now, standing in front of the same door I stormed out of a month prior. In my hand I hold a white bag with a silver bow tying the handles together; a gift I bought for my mom when I was traveling, my last gift to her. With a shaky hand, I knock on the door.
"Coming!" Yells the familiar voice of my mother. The creaky door opens and I see my mother, the first time in a whole month. I've never seen her more distressed or surprised in her life. I can tell she hasn't been eating much, her collarbones are hollow. The dark circles under her eyes have grown since I last saw her. She takes in the image before her and covers her mouth with her shaking hand. Tears instantly fall down her face, landing on the Welcome mat.
"It's really good to see you mom." I whisper, and I mean it. She reaches out for me and pulls my body close to her chest. She cries into my hair and rubs my back; a familiar gesture I have grown used to. I comb her thinning hair through my fingers.
"I missed you so much sweetheart, I'm so sorry Grace, I'm so sorry." she whimpers. I try as hard as I can not to cry, because I know the second I do, I will have to explain myself, and it will make it much harder to cope with what I am about to do.
"Thank you" I say, "let's go inside and we can talk, yeah? I brought you a present."
"Me? Oh, yes! Come in!" she says gleefully, "Oh! How absurd! I'm inviting you into your own house! Oh Grace, I missed you!"
I step inside the house and instantly feel at home, no pun intended. The fireplace still has pictures of our family above it. My Sophomore year picture sits on the far left, as my brother’s Senior picture is on the right. I take a deep breath of the natural aroma the house gives off; cranberries and dryer sheets. I hesitate to take of my coat and shoes, knowing I wont be staying for long.
"Oh honey, take your shoes and coat off! I bet its freezing outside! Would you like any water? I'm going to get you some water! Or how about some leftover pasta! Yes!" Mom exclaims. Her short frail body scurries away and into the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen right behind her, my heels clicking on the wood. The kitchen looks messier than when I left! The pile of dishes in the sink is about as tall as me! The counter is covered with frozen meals and empty bottles of wine.
"Actually mom, I'm leaving in about half an hour. I wish I could stay for longer but sadly our time is cut short." She peeks her head around the fridge door. Her arms go limp for a moment, and her eyes look to the ground. “It’s fine, honey.” she tells me. I feel sympathetic towards her, here I am, her only daughter, coming back with open arms only to be leaving in 30 minutes. I know she is not okay with me leaving so soon, she doesn’t want to pick a fight with me after our latest episode.
I sit at the head of the table, gesturing for my mom to sit at the other end. She does so silently.
