Monday, January 11, 2010

Blessings

6:55 PM | Posted by Warwriter Widow
Grim found himself at the top of a hill, looking down at Riverside Park.  He hadn’t been there since he was a kid.  It was closed now, but here the park was alive and well, with the roller coaster and the merry-go-round, and the bumper cars that he loved so much. 

Grim knew it was a dream – the roller coaster had been torn down years ago and turned into apartments.  The merry-go-round was still up, even though it no longer ran.  It was a museum piece now, manned by members of the Historical Society.  No longer could you ride the wooden horses, or hold the brass bars as you flowed up and down; no longer rang the bell signaling the ride was almost over, and you would reach up for the brass ring above the gypsy mirror as you would pass it by.  Even adults could never get it.

However, as he came down the hill, he heard the calliope of the merry-go-round, and saw in the pavilion that it was going around and around, lights constantly changing, horses and gryphons dancing.  He saw that there was no one in the park.  He moved in between the rides, listening to the music and watching the lights.  There was not another soul.

“Mikey?”

Grim turned to see a woman in glasses dressed in a flower-print blouse and polyester pants, low shoes and her hair cut short in a pixie style.  She tilted her head and gazed at Grim curiously.

“Mom…”  Grim walked over to her, fighting the urge to run into her arms.  It’s a dream, just a dream…

She held out her arms, and he gave up.  He ran into her arms, smelling deeply the perfume she used to always wear, a flowery dew called Odyssey.  He kissed her cheeks and held her face, staring into her hazel eyes, eyes not inherited by any of her children.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“To explain something to you.”  She took his hand, and started walking through the park.  They stopped at the concession stand, where Grim had always wanted to get something but his mother always said they didn’t have enough money.  Two hot dogs appeared on the counter before them.  His mother pulled out her wallet from her purse and left the money on the counter.  He saw that was the only money she had.

“Mom, you don’t have to—“  He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but it was gone.  “Mom, you’ve sacrificed enough.”

“You don’t understand, do you?”  She turned to him, and put her wallet back in her purse.  “Do you think that’s what I did?”

“You had a career.  You gave it up.  And you gave up your health.  You were sick and you didn’t tell any of us how bad it was.”

“Because I love you.”

Grim’s eyes filled with tears.  “That was stupid!  We could have helped, found better doctors, done something—“

“Mikey,” she caressed his face.  “It wasn’t a sacrifice.  It made me proud to see you grow.  I was happy to be there and help you.”  She stepped back and looked at him.  

“You were never a curse, Mikey.  You were always a blessing.”

“But your career.  Your life.”

“You became my life, Mikey.”

“Didn’t you hate me sometimes?  You had to give up yourself for me and I never appreciated it.”

“Mikey, it’s not a sacrifice if you want to do it.  You would do anything for your friends, wouldn’t you?” 

“Within reason, it seems,” he said, thinking of Kalius and what he had done to him.

“You would do it without expecting anything in return, right?”

“Yes…”

She smiled at him, a knowing, loving smile.  “Then you do understand.”

“But kids…”

“Need help more than others.  You’ll get gratitude, later, when you see them grow, and see the returns.”  Then, suddenly, she looked behind her.  “I have to go and see your father,” she said quietly.  “He’s coming soon.”

“Okay.”  Grim hugged her again, inhaling her scent and bringing tears to his eyes again. 

“Now, Mikey, what did I say?” 

This was a stock phrase of hers, and it brought a smile to his face.  “You said that children are a blessing, and that helping them grow is satisfaction enough.”

“Good boy,” she said, and patted his face.  “Get a biscuit.”  She picked up a sugar cookie that suddenly appeared on the counter instead of the hot dogs.  Grim laughed, and took the cookie, completing the little ritual they used to perform.  She turned from him and walked away, fading away as she walked past the merry-go-round.

He looked down at the cookie, and started to cry.  He awoke from the dream, sobbing in Stefan’s arms.

1 comments:

Warwriter Widow said...

Author's note: Grim's mom is inspired by my mom, who passed away August of 2005. The "Good dog" routine was inspired by my husband, who died July of 2007.

January 13, 2010 at 3:54 PM
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