Holding Hands and Letting Go

Holding Hands and Letting Go 

Sharon is elbow deep in her garden when she hears what sounds like a child humming. Sharon puts down her small spade and looks around the backyard. Hm, must have been a bird she thinks to herself and picks the spade back up and she goes back to her task. After a few minutes pass by Sharon begins to hear the humming again only this time it’s closer and sounds as if it’s coming from right next to her. When Sharon turns around this time she expects to see a hummingbird enjoying himself on this beautiful spring day but instead of a hummingbird Sharon spots a little girl. The little girl is right beside Sharon and in her hand is a plastic toy shovel, similar to one a child would use at the beach. The little girl stops digging in the dirt and looks over at Sharon and smiles. 

“Who are you?” Sharon is shocked. How the hell did this little girl get into her backyard and when did she get in here? Sharon just looked around the yard not even five minutes ago and it was empty. 

The little girl giggles and opens her mouth to speak, “Shari, are you okay?”

“What did you just call me?”

“Shari…”

Sharon freezes. No one has called her Shari, she forbade it. Except there was one person who got away with calling her Shari but that was a long time ago, but now that Sharon is looking at this little girl she is starting to see the similarities between this little girl and that person. It’s impossible. Sharon’s stops being confused and automatically a feeling of dread overcomes her. 

“What did you just call me?” Shari won’t take her eyes off the little girl.

“You just asked me that you silly goose.” The little girl starts giggling and the little hairs on Sharon’s face stand on end. That is the same exact laugh. This is completely impossible but yet there she is. Sharon reaches out a hand to touch the little girls arm, half expecting her hand to go right through, like this little girl was a ghost but Sharon’s hand makes contact with the girls warm arm. Sharon squeezes the arm to make sure it’s really there but she must’ve squeezed too tight because the little girl yelped. 

“Ouch, Shari! I’m telling mom!” And with that the little girl drops the plastic shovel into the dirt and runs off into Sharon’s house.

“Hey! Wait a minute!” Sharon stands up and takes off her gardening gloves and throws them on the floor. She doesn’t even remember to take off her gardening boots at the back doorway and walks right into the kitchen leaving a trail of soil behind her. Sharon stops abruptly in the back doorway of the kitchen because standing right in front of her at the door is her mother. It’s not mom now though. No grey, thinning hair. No wrinkles. No rheumy eyes. Instead this is Sharon’s mother of her youth. Her mothers blonde hair is in a neat plait down her back as it always was when Sharon was a child. She is wearing her favorite yellow, terrycloth robe that Sharon’s dad got her the Christmas Sharon was ten. The last Christmas they all spent together. The last happy holiday she had with her family. 

“Sharon Marie! Your little sister just came running in here in tears saying that you pinched her arm while you were gardening! What is wrong with you? You’re her big sister, you’re supposed to look out for her not hurt her.” Sharon’s mom has her arms crossed and her lips pursed. That’s when Sharon feels as if she got hit by a mack truck. She knows exactly what day is playing out right now. It’s the day her little sister died. 

“Um, I don’t know what’s happening.” Sharon sits down at her kitchen table and her little sister walks in from the living room and takes the seat across from Sharon. 

“Are you okay?” Immediately Sharon’s mother’s tone changes from accusatory to sympathetic. “Let me get you a glass of water.” Sharons mom fills up water from the tap and bring the glass over to Sharon. She places her lips firmly against Sharons forehead. “No fever. Is your Aunt Flo visiting?” 

Sharon’s little sister lets out a fit of giggles. 

“What? No.” Sharon hasn’t had a visit from Aunt Flo in sometime. Why is this happening? Is she supposed to do something? Is she supposed to save her sister? Sharon keeps her eyes on her mom who is now cleaning the dirty dishes in Sharon’s sink. She cleans Sharon’s #1 Mom mug that Sharon’s daughter bought for a mothers day years ago, Sharon’s husband breakfast plate that still has remnants of toast and eggs on it. 

“I keep telling your father, dump all of the leftovers into the trash before putting the dishes in the sink!” Sharon’s mother is standing over the trashcan swiping the left over food off the plate. 

Sharon looks over at her little sister. She is twiddling her fingers. Sharon is watching her small hands roll around and around. Sharon remembers the last time she saw those hands. They were shriveled and so pruny from having been laying in the water for a while. It wasn’t that long but it was long enough that her sister had become unrecognizable to her. Her little sister looks up at her and smiles. Sharon smiles back. 

“Sharon, I need you to take your sister with you today if you go out. I have some errands to run and it’s way too nice of a day for her to stay inside.”

I remember my exact reaction the first time my mom told me that, years and years ago. I had a brat attack. I didn’t want to spend time with my annoying, 10 year old sister. I had just spent the whole morning gardening with her and I couldn’t understand why my mom would make me take her along with me that afternoon. I felt I had paid my dues for that day. Today though, I have a completely different reaction, I agree wholeheartedly. This clearly surprises me young mother who was gearing up for a fight with me but I can see her shoulders relax and hear her let out a deep breath at my response. 

“Really Shari? Can we go down to the lake?” My little sister’s eyes are lit up. “Mommy is it okay if we go swimming at the lake?” Sharon is trying so hard to get out the word “no” but she physically can’t do it. Instead her mother answers.

“Of course you can just please be safe! Only up to your knees okay little lady?” My mom walks behind my sister and ruffles her hair and then grabs her head and plants a big wet kiss right on top of her head. My sister breaks out in a fit of giggles. I can’t help but stare at the smile on my mothers face as she looks at my laughing sister. I haven’t seen that smile in a very long time. 

A few minutes later my sister and I are walking the trail down to the lake. I take her hand in mine and hold it tight. I think I can save her this time. I don’t know if I said this out loud or in my head because my little sister looks up at me and says, “You couldn’t save me.” 

That feeling of dread comes over me as I look down at my sister. She is staring up at me but the light is gone from her eyes and now they’re incredibly sad. If eyes could convey a look of hopelessness this would be it. 

My little sister continues, “I was supposed to die. No matter what happened that day, I was going to die. If we didn’t go to the lake it would’ve been something else. There was nothing that you could have done.”

Tears well up in my eyes and start to fall down my face. I nod my head but don’t make any noise. I finally muster up the strength to open my mouth and say, “I am so sorry. I should have been there for you that day at the lake. I wasn’t paying any attention to you. I should have kept a better eye on you. You were my responsibility.” 

My little sister gives me a sad smile and shakes her head, “Shari, what happened to me wasn’t your fault.”

“Can I change it? Can I save you today?” I am still crying and wiping tears off my cheeks with my right hand and my left still grips my sisters. 

“No, that’s not why I’m here. Whats done is done. I just wanted to see you and mom. It’s been a really long time. I wanted you to know it’s okay to let go. You don’t have to keep holding my hand. I am okay. And you will be too.”

“It has been a really long time.” We walk in silence the rest of the way to the lake. 

When we finally reach the grassy area by the lake I realize my hand left hand feels very light. My sister is gone. I walk over to the lake and roll up my jeans and take off my gardening boots. I walk into the lake up to my knees and let out a loud scream, a scream I didn’t realize I had been holding in all of these years. 

After visiting at the lake for a while I walk back home with my gardening boots in my hand and my jeans still rolled up. As I walk into the kitchen I see my husband sweeping up the soil I had left all over the floor.

“Sharon!” He gives me a big smile when I walk in. “Thank God I was terrified! I come home to dirt all over the floor, your gardening tools left abandoned and you were no where in sight! I was just about to go walking and look for you. Are you okay?”

I smile and tell him I am. I walk over and give him a big hug and a kiss. “What would you think if I started going by Shari instead of Sharon?”

He stops sweeping and looks up at me, “I thought you hated that name.”

“It’s been a really long time. It’s time to let that go.”