MemoriesA Story by Vasilees Sybissyl About the wild and beautiful past of a single mother in her words. We had just shifted to a new house and my twelve year old son was bugging me with just this one question. He had been asking me the same question for years, but never could I pluck up the courage to answer it. Finally, as I had just started to stretch my feet after a long day of moving the impossibly large amount of belongings, he started bugging me. So me being me, a very tired me at that, I shouted at him and told him to go to his room. He was hurt, I knew it, but he didn't show it. Instead, he defiantly marched up the stairs, banging his feet a little too hard, to his room. He didn't speak to me for days after the 'grounding incident' as I called it. It broke my heart to see him move and work like a robot; he didn't even acknowledge my presence in the room. Finally, after a series of logical reasoning in my head, which was actually getting fed up with his anger, I decided to apologize. I walked up the stairs to his room, a little voice telling me it was all his fault, I ignored it and focused on the task on hand, and told him, "Alright, I'm sorry I grounded you for no reason." But instead of smiling and hugging me like I I didn't want to oblige, but his demand was fair, and I asked him what his question was, already knowing the answer very well. What he asked me wasn't really a question, but anything demanding to know the unknown is a question, isn't it? "....Dad....." Oh, that word. That one word brought all those painful memories I had carefully packed back to the surface. That one word shattered my heart, my soul, my being into a million pieces, and more. I could never confront this question - this word - but now, as I sat on my son's unmade bed, I knew that the time had come. I looked into his eyes, all I could see was the look of pure longing they held. He deserved to know. True, I had to bear the pain, but I had the memories. He had nothing. He was mature enough to understand and I knew he needed this. Therefore, careful not to let my emotions overpower me,I began, "Your father and I, we met in the weirdest way possible. My family and I had just moved to a new house and the balcony of his room faced mine. On my first night there, he gained my attention by shouting a big 'Hey' from his balcony. At that time, I thought of he was nothing more that a troublemaker. I was in ninth grade and wanted nothing more than peace in my life, but which teen gets that?" I stopped to breath. "In my life, Derek was the tornado which destroyed my peace. I was right about him being a troublemaker. He tried constant tricks that were just plain annoying to get my attention. I used to get really annoyed, you know, of him. He constantly bugged me, 24 X 7. But all my friends told me to give him a chance, they thought it was cute. Like Lily and James Potter. After a while, I gave in. I didn't think we'd get along, so I didn't even try. But as we started talking, we figured we were two peas in a pod. Also, in my school, they changed sections in ninth grade, so naturally, we ended up in the same division." I took a deep breath; I was not going to fall week, not now, not here. Darius was listening to every word I said with rapt attention. He motivated me gently with his eyes to go on, and put his unfinished Rubik's cube to one side, so I continued, "Now, as we were neighbors and classmates, we got closer. We had already become great friends, but now we were inseparable. This continued till our graduation. After that, I wanted to dance, and he wanted to do arts. Sketching, painting, sculpting, you name it, he could do it. We found a university - the best one in the state at that- and luckily, we both got admissions. Roommates and best friends, we did everything together. It seemed like we wanted to defy the universal law of ever growing apart. I think we enjoyed the most during our college time. We were two of the best students in our classes, but that didn't mean we were the most well behaved. No, we were total party animals. We worked from Monday to Friday and partied like crazy on Saturday. Sunday time we devoted to our friendship -going on picnics, reading together, singing, anything together." I had started to get teary by now, but I urged myself to go on, for Darius, and for the sake of Derek's memory. I continued, my voice shaking and breaking at certain points, "It was then, I think, that we began liking each other. Our college time flew, and now we we're in the real world, expected to fend for ourselves. There too, we supported and lifted each other, and stayed by each other's side. We also figured that we liked each other, so we got even closer. I got the opportunity to dance at festivals and even got to dance in a Broadway Musical. He, on the other hand, sold many of his pieces and started working on movie sets and all of that s**t. And then, one day, suddenly, he took me out toothed most expensive restaurant in town, and there, romantic music started playing in the private pond side cabin we we're sitting in, and my favorite Rom-Com started playing and we we're eating popcorn and he suddenly slipped this ring onto my finger." I pointed to my engagement ring; a platinum band with a black pearl in the center, dotted by smoky diamonds. Often rubbed my finger over it, as if he'd magically appear in front of me, but in vain. "He proposed. Of course I said yes." This time, my voice lost the happiness a girl's possessed when she talked about her wedding. I couldn't even bring myself to smile reassuringly at Darius, who looked rather weak too. I was weak in this moment, how could I support him? "After three years, we had you. Tadaa, we were a complete, happy family. But who knew this time would end so soon." Now, tears were streaming down my face as I wiped them furiously in a last feeble attempt at staying strong. I had let my emotions get better of me, and that little voice in my head was telling me to stop and run out of the room, but I shushed it. Darius had tears in his eyes too. He told me that this was enough, his voice shaking, but I silenced him, knowing I wouldn't be strong again. He had to learn about his father. "He was a great dad. He loved his family to the bits and took the best care of us. On some weekdays, he worked on his art pieces for a while and also took care of you while I went to work. On weekends, we would all go for walks and picnics and we shopped. But this time ended too soon." I took a deep breath, This was the hardest part of the whole story; the most painful one. "It was raining heavily that day. I was waiting for him anxiously. I knew he loved the rain. I'd prepared the most lavish feast you can imagine - all Italian, his favorite. And I sat, with you in my arms, both of us all dolled up for nice family dinner, and then, and then -" I couldn't take it any longer, a sob broke out from whatever remained of my already ductile, flimsy armor. No, I needed to tell him this. It was his right. A new found determination in my heart, that still couldn't stop the tears that were streaming down my face freely now, drove me forward, and I continued, "A phone call destroyed my dreams. Shattered my heart. I remember the words, clear as day, there was a man on the line, he said 'Your husband 's in the hospital. Got in a road accident. Come quick!' " I took a deep breath to calm myself, which was unsuccessful. The night still haunted my nightmares. Then I continued, my pitch a little higher than usual, tears blurring my vision, "And then I kicked off my heels and ran all the way to the hospital, shielding you from the rain with only my arms, only to get the news that turned our lives upside down. That's it. You have your answer." We were both crying now, wrapped in each other's arms. He knows what happened after that. I had to take an online course to get a job n a fancy company (which I hold to this date) as my life as a dancer was too unpredictable. "I used to cry every night, every day, you know. I used to set three people's food on the table just to pretend he was still here. But it was all useless. I had to face the reality. For myself. For you. For Derek." I tried to gain some strength, I had to. I could not fall weak. "His laugh was so cheerful, it lifted my mood in seconds. His eyes held a different kind of sincerity and fun. He was so protective of you, didn't let a soul tease you. And he was such a great man. Always helped everyone. All those kids in the orphanage still remember his name. One fourth of our combined income went to them. I still send money, to keep the tradition alive." Suddenly, my immature, irrational son came closer to me and wiped my tears. "Dad wouldn't have wanted you to cry." He whispered. 'Yes, Darius, dad wouldn't have want us to cry. But there are so many things you won't understand.' I thought as I nodded an wiped his tears. "He wouldn't have wanted you to cry either." I told my son. Then I held him as he cried, for how long, I don't know. Finally he fell asleep and I lay him onto his bed, whispering goodnight. Then I went to my room and took out the photo album from my wedding. His flaming red hair, just like Darius' shone in the sunlight, his eyes twinkling just like Darius' do. Oh Darius, you won't get it. How I stand looking at you every day, an exact replica of him. The way you laugh, the merry sound of bells, just like he did. The way you walk, so full of pride, like him. That fire behind his blue eyes, that merry laugh, all, once my lifeline, are now just painful. There isn't a day that goes without me thinking of you, Derek. You held me strong, but left me here. Left me weak. But it is your memories that give me the power to stand again, it is Darius who gives me the power. I have to be brave for him. He is the force that supports me. The reason I fight. He is the purpose of my life; you are a dream I die everyday to live. The next day, Sunday, we pretended that nothing had happened. I kept the wedding album on his desk. It belongs to him now. We are now the perfect pair on mother and son. We have an unspoken understanding of not discussing those times, but every once in a while, we open the album and go through it. We both get a little teary, and then we laugh and comfort each other. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." -Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Ah, Harry Potter, my, Derek's and now, Darius' favorite novel series. Yes, it truly does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, but to me, a dream is my lifeline. Or better, a memory. What a hypocrite I am, I repeat this quote to Darius all the time, but me, there is no end to my dreaming. The times we spent together as a family, a complete, whole set. If only he were still here. But that, all those dreams, they are not real. They comfort us for the night, and the pain doubles up in the morning. They are not possible. They are nothing but memories. Memories we love, memories we crave, memories we can't resurrect.
© 2017 Vasilees SybissylAuthor's Note
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Added on February 25, 2017Last Updated on March 4, 2017 Tags: young life, love, single parenthood, parenthood, mother, son, hardships, high school, college, school, family Author
Vasilees SybissylThat Little Cottage, Just 'Round the River Bend, IndiaAboutWelcome to a piece of my soul. more..Writing
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