The Letter

“Thank you for coming.” Rachel said as she walked the last two guests to the door.

“We wouldn’t have missed it. Your mother was a saint. I can’t believe she’s gone. What will I do without her…” Tears started to flood her Aunt’s already red eyes. Rachel knew she had to get them out fast otherwise she would be comforting her Aunt all night. Luckily her Uncle knew this too.

“Let’s go Lorianne.” He said as he gently half guided half pushed his wife out the door. Before he closed the door he looked back at Rachel. “Take care of your father Rachel. He’s going to need you more than ever.”

When the door closed Rachel sat down in relief. The past week had been a whirlwind of activity. Contacting relatives, finalizing funeral plans, and planning the reception had taken up all her time. It was a blessing in disguise. This was the first time she had really sat down and thought about what had happened. Her mom was gone. She would never again hear her Mom’s laughter or taste her perfect sandwiches. They would never again sit and talk on this very couch. Rachel hung her head and wept.

When Rachel’s tears were spent, she went in search of her father. Halfway through the reception he had excused himself. “I’m just going to lie down.” He explained. As if he even needed an explanation. His wife was dead. They had been married for forty-nine years. They had known each other basically their whole lives. No one could blame him for wanting some time alone.

When Rachel reached her parents room she rapped on the door. There was no movement. He must still be sleeping she thought. She peeked in and saw that he was not sleeping. Instead he was sitting in the armchair by the window, watching the wind blow through the tree branches. “Dad? Dad are you ok?” She asked.

 He jumped a little in his chair. “Oh sweetheart! You startled me! I’m fine…well…not really but as well as could be expected.” He laughed to himself with dry amusement.

“Can I get you anything? A soda? Some chips? I can make you a sandwich if you want. I mean it won’t be like how Ma made it but…” Rachel choked back tears and scolded herself. Damn-it! Why do I have to be so stupid?! He doesn’t need to be reminded of that. 

He could see his daughter struggling not to cry. He stood up and hugged her hard. “Your mother really made a great sandwich huh.” That was all it took to open the flood gates. Rachel sobbed in her father’s arms.

When Rachel finished crying she apologized. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around!”

Her father tried hard not to laugh. “It’s alright. You’re doing a great Job. Your Mom would say you were spoiling me.”

Rachel felt a bit comforted. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? There’s lots of leftover snacks downstairs.”

“No”, He replied, “I can wait until dinner.”

“Ok”, she said. “Well I’ll call you when it’s dinnertime. What kind of casserole do you want? Tuna, Chicken, Broccoli? There’s about 30 sitting in the freezer. Your neighbors really came through for you huh?”

He shook his head “Actually that was your mother’s doing.”

“What!” Rachel was surprised. “I thought she was sick! Where did she find the time to cook all that? Where did she find the energy?”

“The same place she found the time and energy to read all these.”

He gestured to a large box of books sitting next to her Mother’s side of the bed. “She wanted to read as many of her favorite books as she could and she wanted to make me as many of my favorite dinners so I wouldn’t forget her, as if I ever could.”

Rachel looked in the box. She saw many books she was familiar with. Her Mom loved to read and shared that love with her family by reading out loud every night.

Her Dad got an idea “You know what you could do to help me? Why don’t you take those books to your Aunt’s tomorrow? You can both go through them and keep what you want.”

Rachel picked up a copy of Pride and Prejudice. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Of course. Your Mom would want you to read them to Sarah. That little girl is your Mom’s legacy. Don’t let her traditions die.” Her Dad wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Rachel flipped through the book when she made a discovery. It was an envelope with a name written out in her Mothers familiar handwriting. 

Goony Bird

“Dad”, she called. “What’s a Goony Bird?”

“Oh Um, that’s your Mom’s pet name for me.” He blushed remembering. “It’s a long story. Don’t ask.”

“Well then I think this is for you.” She handed the envelope to her Dad. He opened it. Inside was a letter. “She wrote to you?” She gasped.

Her father was silent. Tears threatened to fall down his face. Quietly Rachel helped him back to the chair, took the box of books, and left the room. With trembling hands he unfolded the letter and began to read.

Dear Goony Bird,

I know you will find this when I’m gone. Actually Rachel will probably find this first. I know you’ll give her my books. They belong to her and, hopefully one day, to Sarah.

I don’t read much these days anyway. He mused. Deciphering his Wife’s handwriting was always a challenge even when he was younger. After rubbing his eyes He turned back to the letter.

I know your old eyes don’t let you read much anyway. I hope you can read my chicken scratch. Maybe I should have asked Rachel to help me make a recording, but I wanted to leave you with something to hold.

Do you remember when we first met? The first time I saw you, you and Abe were throwing that football in the front yard. Do you remember what happened next?

Instantly a picture formed in his mind. He could see the front porch, the swing, and the little girl in pig tails and overalls reading a book dangling her legs. He paused and tried to remember what happened next. Suddenly it hit him! He shrunk back in his chair in embarrassment as if it had happened yesterday.

Abe threw that ball too hard and you MISSED IT! It hit me in the eye and knocked me of the porch swing! 

He couldn’t believe she held that against him! It wasn’t his fault, besides he said he was sorry

Don’t worry I don’t hold grudges. It was Abe’s fault anyway. My brother could be a showoff sometimes. Still is actually.

Anyway you held your hand out to help me up. That was the first time we touched. You could have just let my mother handle it. But you sat on the steps and read to me. You said it was your fault I had a bag of peas on my eye and you felt bad. Do you remember the name of that book?

He stretched his brain. Suddenly he made the connection! Pride and Prejudice of course!

It was Pride and Prejudice. You said I must have been pretty grown up for reading such an advanced book. The next day you brought me another book, The Time Machine. You said it was one of your favorites. You even read the first chapter to me. You brought me a new book every couple of weeks after that and always read me the first chapter. I knew you were just being nice to Abe’s kid sister. But those visits meant the world to me! I devoured each book as quick as I could so you would bring me another one. I just wanted to sit with you one more time. I still have those books.

He thought of the box of books that had been by the bed for the past 3 months. His wife had insisted on reading them to him every night she could. He wished he could tell her how much that time meant to him.

I’ve been returning the favor for the past few months. I wanted to give you some last memories to cherish when I was gone.  

Do you remember when I started High School? I was so excited to no longer be Abe’s kid sister. I was a young women. I remember you walked over to me and I held my breath. Then you started talking to Babs! My best friend of all people! After that you asked out Debbie, then Georgia, then Kate, then- well I don’t remember their names but it sure seemed like a lot!

I thought you didn’t hold grudges, he teased grinning with some amusement.

I don’t hold grudges, but I will never forget how irritated I felt! Every weekend I had to watch you date one after another of my friends. But every Sunday afternoon you came to read with me. We would watch the sunset afterward and you would talk to me. Not them. Me. But you didn’t see me the way I saw you. 

He was taken by surprise. His wife had never told him this before. She may not have been there but he couldn’t help but defend himself against her accusations. I couldn’t ask you out! You were Abe’s kid sister! 

I was no longer Abe’s kid sister! I was your friend. I wanted you to see me as that and more. I didn’t have the gumption to say anything until after the school year ended. 

I was reading at the park when you sauntered up. You asked me if Abe was around. He wasn’t, thank goodness. I wanted you all to myself. Apparently you were having a problem and needed advice. Of course I wanted to help! 

We took a stroll around the duck pond while you explained your problem. Do you remember what it was was?

He couldn’t remember but he suspected it wasn’t anything good. Let me guess it was about a girl.

Of course it was about a girl! You wanted to know you should ask Cindy or Mindy out. They were twins and you knew it wouldn’t be right to ask them both out! It took every ounce of restraint in me not to scream at you.

Now he remembered. You never answered me you know.

 Cindy was the obvious answer.

Instead of answering you I shifted my attention to the ducks. There was one mallard that was having a bad hair (feather?) day. The feathers on top of his head were frilled like a roosters. He wasn’t the best looking duck but he was certainly the loudest. He quack quacked at all the lady ducks. None of them kept his interest for long though. As soon as another lady duck waddled across his path he chased the new distraction. Remind you of anyone?

He rolled his eyes. I knew you would say that.

I pointed out the silly duck in some vain attempt to show you the error of your ways. Instead you called it Stud Duck.

Duck Stud, He corrected.

I’m sorry. Duck Stud, my mistake. I was filled with disgust. How could I feel so deeply for someone so stupid?! That’s when I called the duck a Goony Bird. Then I messed up your slicked back hair and called you a Goony Bird too.

I ran and for the first time you were chasing ME. Once you caught me I couldn’t stop laughing. 

He remembered how his hair had poofed out.  You were laughing because you had ruined my hairstyle and bruised my ego.

I was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. I was just a girl with a silly crush and it would never change unless I did something about it. That’s when I asked you out. The look on your face was worth the 5 year wait.

 After that it was just a matter of time.

“I slipped my class ring on your finger that Christmas…”

“You slipped a real ring on my finger two years later.”

“Forty-nine years of love. We really tested those vows…”

“For better and for worse and back again.”

“In sickness…”

“and in health”

“We raised a beautiful daughter…”

“Who is now raising our beautiful grand-daughter.”

She slipped her hand in his.

“You left me Maggie.” and he began to sob.

“Oh George,” Maggie took him in her arms. “Shh Shh Shh. It’s alright. I will never leave your side again.”

Rachel rapped on her parent’s door before opening it. “Dad? Sarah and Miguel are here. We decided on a chicken and rice casserole. Sarah might actually eat that. Maybe you could read us Mom’s letter during dinner. What would you like to drink?”

No answer. Her dad had fallen asleep in the arm chair. It took Rachel a few minutes to realize he would never wake up. She stifled a scream of grief. After she regained her composure Rachel stood up and took a good long look at her Dad. His eyes were closed in a peaceful slumber, he had a smile on his lips, and her Mothers letter clutched in his hand over his heart. She kissed him on the check. “Give Ma a hug for me.”