Dead and Not-So-Gone

...And I’m back! Yes, I know you buried me over 15 years ago and have made peace with my passing, but I was bored. Death is dull. You just roam around haunting those who’ve wronged you. And those people died years ago. The past few years have been unbearably dreary. So, I took the first chance I found to come back to you, my children. If only you were easier to find…

But first, to my dear Bill:

 I loved you for so long. You and I have shared so many things; I’m surprised you’re not here with me, haunting the world. I see, as I gaze at our shared tombstone, that you lived a further 6 years beyond me. Did you make peace during that time? Did you make things right with my jealous sister? Did you continue to raise our children and grandchildren? Bill, I wish you were here. 

With love, Miriam

I found our farm. Some of our children were still there, running it jointly. You wouldn’t believe what they’ve done with the place and how it’s grown! You would be so proud of their maple syrup and honey bottling processes. And of course, you would love all of the little ones running around; you always enjoyed them more than I did. We have so many grandchildren and even great-grandchildren! You would’ve laughed so hard at the looks of disbelief when I told them I was their great-grandmother. They didn’t even know me.

I found Terry and Gene in the fields, looking at some kind of machinery. After the initial shock of seeing their dead mother again, they both gave me a hug and invited me inside my own house. It looks different now! They brewed some kind of strange coffee and sat me down to talk. 

I wanted to know where my other children were, what they had been doing, etc. I wanted to know how the world had changed. I wanted to know if my legacy had survived all these years. 

Terry got out this rectangle thing, made some noises, and put it back down. I was a little confused about what it could be - maybe some kind of futuristic PDA? I got distracted by some of the other futuristic devices in the kitchen. The kitchen had always been my domain, and now, it looked so unfamiliar. I recognized the oven, but the stovetop had flat circles on it instead of heating spirals I was used to. I recognized a toaster, but there were so many weird buttons on it. 

The futuristic PDA made this weird buzzing noise, and Terry picked it up. 

“Okay, the Osmans and family are on their way.

They don’t believe that you’re back.”

He paused for a minute. 

“Why are you back, Mom?”

I didn’t know how to answer him. How could I tell him that I only came back because death was boring? How could I say that it wasn’t for a wholesome desire of family but a selfish desire?

“I’m not entirely sure, Terry.”

Everyone came and introduced me to new and old family members. There were far too many for me to keep track of. Judy, my darling only daughter, suggested an impromptu reunion, so people went home to cook and grab games. The little ones were left to play in the fields, with their older siblings and cousins to watch them. 

I asked Terry and Gene about the two missing kids: William and Denny. Denny was at work, in a neighboring county, and William…

“What is it?” I asked. 

“William…” Gene started hesitantly. “He...he doesn’t want to see you.”

“Why?” I asked. But I think I already knew. 

My head started spinning. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The world was closing in. My eyes started to darken. Everything went black. 

“Mom, Mom!”

I opened my eyes. I was surrounded by people. I tried to get up. The people around me backed away ever so slightly. 

“What happened?” I grumbled, holding my head in my hands. 

“You fainted, Mom,” someone replied. 

“I guess being dead is hard on the body,” I said jokingly. 

A few people laughed awkwardly. 

The rest of the day was spent as a normal family reunion with nothing special happening, just good food and good times. We shared all types of food, including special dishes from each family. I missed all this good food while I was dead and buried. It tasted so good! And, of course, we played all sorts of games. We played pinochle, Scrabble, and bingo. The kids were organized to play races, water balloon tosses, and a game of baseball. Most of the men disappeared in the afternoon to play a round of golf, while we started cooking corn and reheating leftovers. Everyone tried to include me, but everyone looked so different that it was hard to keep track of who was who. But something - or rather someone - was missing.

“Terry, where is William?” I asked my second oldest during a moment away from everyone else. 

“He doesn’t want to see you, Mom.”

“Why?”

Terry paused, unsure of what to say. 

“He’s still upset with you, Mom.” Terry lowered his voice. “Because you didn’t tell him about his father.”

“WHO TOLD HIM?” I yelled. 

The reunion uproar died down, and everyone stared at me. 

I turned around and stomped inside the house, seething with rage. 

I had spent 50 years of my life doing everything I could to keep this secret. Bill and I had lied about our marriage year so that our children would never find out. My sisters and brother were sworn to secrecy. I modified the records in the church and did not keep a copy of our marriage certificate. I wrote the wrong dates on the back of our wedding pictures, excluded pictures of William’s father in the family album, and even hid William’s birth certificate. I thought I had done everything. Where had I gone wrong?

Terry, Judy, Tom, and Gene came inside to talk to me. 

“Mom, sit down,” Tom said. 

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Judy asked, sitting next to me. 

Terry took a breath in and quickly told his brothers and sister. 

“Mom just learned that William found out about his real father.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Gene started. “Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

Why didn’t I tell them? I married and divorced someone, and my first two children were formed out of wedlock. How could I ever let them know? How could I tell my children that I was a horribly selfish child who always got my way?

When I was a young child, I had rickets. I was in such pain all the time that I would often scream just from walking or moving. I would have terrible seizures. My mother was terrified that I would die. My parents had lost a child early on in their marriage, and they did everything they could to prevent that from happening again. Mom and Dad gave me everything they could, including the best portions from our meager meals. My older sisters gave me everything I wanted. My next oldest sister, Esther, became very jealous of me. I was doted on; she was ignored and left to the oldest girls to raise. Esther was always upset with me and “how lucky” I was.

 She hated when I followed her and her friends to Baltimore to work at an airplane factory. She hated it when I was better at cooking or quilting or knitting than her. She even told her kids my secret. Out of spite, I’m sure. I had to keep a close eye on her children and make sure they didn’t spill the beans during family reunions. I made sure my family never saw hers throughout the rest of the year, as well. I bet it was her, my jealous sister, who told William. Well, I least I had spent the first 15 years of the afterlife haunting her. 

“How did you find out?” I asked bitterly. “It was my sister, wasn’t it.”

“Aunt Esther? No, of course not,” Gene replied. 

“There was a weird comment that one of her kids said to me once,” Terry said. “Something about being a bastard… She was sort of right, of course.”

“What?” I said, shocked. “You were never a bastard. Your father and I were married for years before you were -“

“Don’t lie, Mother,” Terry interrupted. “We know the truth.”

The others nodded.

“Dad told us.”

Bill? Bill told my secret? 

“Well, Mom, you always said you would take your secrets to your grave.” Judy said.

“You did, Mom,” Tom said. “We just didn’t expect you to come back.”

“No one did.” Gene added. 

“Mom,” said Terry, taking my hand. “We deserved to know. Will deserved to know.”

Maybe he did. Maybe I was wrong. 

“Will has a whole new family,” Tom said. I looked at him questioningly. “Will’s dad, your first husband, got married again and had another family.” 

“They live in California,”  Judy said.

“Will has been living near them for the past several years,” Terry added. 

The boys and Judy bought me a plane ticket to California. Judy and Terry decided to go with me. 

The plane and the airport were so foreign to me. There were these computers that people used to order food instead of asking a person. Even the drink machines were computers. I brought some knitting to do while waiting for the airport, but Terry and Judy were doing something on their “phones” the whole time. Judy tried to show me how to play a game on her phone; I had no idea what to do. Last I knew, the only games on a phone were Snake and Tetris, played with arrow keys. And it took forever for my grandkids to teach me those. The world sure had changed in the 15+ years that I was dead. 

I felt like I didn’t belong to this world anymore. I wished I could move on. Why hadn’t I once my sister died? Was it my unfinished business with William? Bill was right to tell William. I was wrong to keep it from him. 

When we landed, Terry went to get our luggage, while Judy ordered some bus tickets. I spent the whole ride growing more and more nervous. What would William say to me? Would he ever forgive me?

William greeted us at the bus station. He gave Judy a hug and a handshake to Terry. William then put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground.

 “Hello, Mother,” he said begrudgingly. 

“William…” I didn’t know what to say to him.

“William,” I started again. “I am so, so sorry.”

William didn’t say a word to me as we got in his car and drove to his apartment. He excitedly told his brother and sister all about the area we were driving through and about his “other family”. Any time I asked him a question, he would reply with silence. His silence and ignorance was causing me great pain. 

At his apartment, I asked where his wife was. Terry replied that they had gotten divorced about 10 years ago. William was all alone. His daughters had grown up and gotten married, too. William went over to a safe, opened it, and got a yellowing piece of paper. He put it down on the table in front of me. “Why did you never tell me, Mom? Why did you lie to me my whole life?” The paper in front of me was my marriage license to Bill. 

“How did you get this?” I asked. 

“Dad gave it to me,” William replied. “He told me the truth, Mom, which is more than you ever did.”

On the marriage license was the real date of our wedding and the fact that I had been divorced. 

“Dad told me he was not my father and my father’s real name. He told me how you were married before and got divorced shortly after I was born. He said he didn’t even know me until after you got married to him. He told me my grandmother raised me until you two got married and he convinced you to let him adopt me and live with you as a family. You didn’t even want me!” William stood up and started pacing back and forth. 

“Of course I didn’t want you,” I said hesitantly. “I wanted to be free to live my life the way I wanted. I didn’t want a husband and baby - to be tied down. You meant the end of my freedom. I gave you to my mother and never looked back...that is, until I met Bill. 

“Bill was the kind of guy that made me want to be a better person. He loved me so much. He loved you, too. He adopted you and became Terry’s dad all at the same time. He asked me to let you in. And I did.”

 I looked up at William. He had stopped pacing and was looking at me with a disgusted look on his face. 

“William, I felt so ashamed about what I had done. I had abandoned you. So, I changed everything to erase that part of my life. Bill agreed, because he thought you deserved a happy family. I’m sorry for what I did. And I’m sorry for keeping your family from you. I understand you’ve got a couple more sisters and a brother here?” 

William’s anger melted from his face. He started talking about his new family. Then he took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

“Mom, I forgive you.”

I felt everything start shifting. The world around me was fading. My heart felt light. With William’s forgiveness, I could finally move on.