Jessie's Courage

Jessie listened to the wind blowing through the trees and watched the remaining leaves take flight. Scarlet, gold, green, and orange rained through the sky, landing everywhere, some over the fence and down the neighborhood streets. Safe, warm, and snug in her recliner, she tugged at the blanket tucked around her legs and wished for the freedom to join the leaves. 

If only I had been a tree, my leaves withering away the day Tommy died. The storm would have battered my trunk, wind gusts lacerating my heart in a million leafy pieces. Jessie turned back to the window, to the leaves blowing endlessly through the sky, scattering their colored perfection.

She looked around the living room of the old family home she had inherited, one she had lived in all her life. Most of the time, she loved this house, its built-in nooks, the black and golden hues melding together in the fireplace. But today, she was restless and tired of looking at the same four walls. Her sweet daughter Elizabeth lived in the house as her companion, but sometimes, she didn’t want to be fussed over.

Closing worn grey eyes, she felt the presence of her old friend Marigold settling cozily on her shoulder. Marigold. .Jessie hadn’t thought of her in years.

Dear Marigold. They’d grown up together, giggling, laughing, Jessie confiding her deepest secrets in the ears of her tiny friend. Miss Marigold was a little bit like the Elf on the shelf, always hanging around somewhere, getting into mischief, but usually there when you needed her. “Where have you been Marigold?” Jessie whispered. “I’ve missed you. You should have been here to make me laugh, cry with me, and help me through the pain.”

“Blah blah blah, BLAH!” Marigold blew a raspberry in Jessie’s ear. “Almost three years – don’t you feel it’s time to stop being angry? You’ve had no use for smiles or laughter before now. I’ve been waiting for you all along. The only reason you brought me here today is because of the leaves. You were thinking of the autumn leaves that flew into the neighbor’s yard so many years ago. When we chased after them, who did we find? Nine-year-old Tommy in his backyard playing with plastic cowboys and Indians, making a fort with mud, sticks, and leaves. We sat right down in the mud next to him to help. We had such fun playing with the sticks. I think Tommy fell in love with you that day.”

Jessie, I’ve always been your silent partner. Even after you and Tommy grew up and got married, I was still around, pushing you into adventures with your kids. Now you’re the old stick in the mud. It’s time to make a fresh start, old woman. Tommy wouldn’t want you to grieve for so long. Let’s chase the leaves for real once again instead of in your dreams.”

“What do you know about it? Where were you when that car took Tommy’s life and left my legs crushed and useless? I’ve missed you all these years Marigold. As a girl, you taught me to be brave. Where have you been when I needed you the most?”

Marigold bent forward and stroked a tiny finger down the soft creases in Jessie’s cheek. “You’ve been too sad to be with me. I am not made for despair,” she admonished the old woman. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Jessie sniffed in indignation, “This is your answer after so many years of absence? I suppose you think I can get up and walk with you, but it will take a bit more than that these days. I don’t know what the outside holds for me anymore. Life is just too hard, too painful, too lonely.” 

“Get up, Jessie; it is time to live again. You are loved, but nobody knows how to put your heart back together. Let’s search together for the happy.” Marigold tugged on Jessie’s ear, pleading, “Get up Jessie!”

Jessie tried to ignore Marigold but stared out the window longingly. She remembered Marigold’s entrance into her life. An only child whose parents had never seemed to have enough time for her, Jessie’s abuela had been the lifeline to which she had always clung. Before she died, Grandma promised her that she would never be alone if she always believed in the spirit of love.

Jessie was eight years old when Abuela passed. When the child laid a sweet bouquet on her grave, her new friend appeared on her shoulder, bringing light and love back into her life. Jessie named her Marigold after the flowers, symbolizing the connection between life and death.

Marigold’s light guided young Jessie back into a world of glorious color. Her tiny body was covered in splashes of orange and yellow. She had russet-colored hair and grass-green eyes that glowed with mischief. She never aged, as Tommy and Jessie had, but encouraged them both in a life of laughter and adventure. Jessie's heart ached, remembering how Tommy had welcomed Marigold into his own world. She missed Tommy’s wry sense of humor, his staccato burst of laughter, his hand holding hers. She sighed heavily. Marigold hugged her neck and whispered once more. “Get up, Jessie.” 

Slowly, the old woman raised herself from the recliner, and re-settling herself in the battery-controlled wheelchair, rolled down to the hallway closet. She struggled to reach for her pocketbook and sweater to guard against the autumn chill.

“I’m going outside for some fresh air, Elizabeth,” she called out to her daughter, who was busy with paperwork in her home office.

“Wha wha What? You’re doing what?” Elizabeth’s jaw dropped open, and she almost tumbled off her chair in a hurry, only to see her mother fumble with the door locks and leave the house.

“Mama, wait a few hours, and I’ll go with you.”

“Nope, you have your work, and I have Marigold. We’ll be fine,” Jessie responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand as she started down the ramp constructed for her use after the accident.

Who is Marigold? Elizabeth thought. She watched her mother cautiously navigate down the drive and turn left, seeming to follow the leaves as they danced their way down the street. Mama hardly ever left the house anymore. She had once volunteered at numerous charities, but that was before the accident, before her father’s death. Elizabeth remembered what the psychologist had told her. “Your mother will stop grieving in her own time. Be there for her when she does.” 

Quickly grabbing her own sweater and lacing up her sneakers, Jessie’s concerned daughter followed behind at a safe distance.

***

“Now then Jessie, do you remember what day it is?”

Of course, I do Marigold. It’s Thursday!”

“No, silly, that’s not what I mean. Fifty-five years ago, Tommy kissed you underneath that oak tree right here. He said to remind you of that now and for you to know he’ll always be waiting for your kisses.”

Jessie smiled, “So he did.” She thought about those sweet lips touching hers for the first time. “I had to ask him first, Marigold. I was fifteen, and he was sixteen. I thought he’d never work up his courage. I said, “Aren’t you ever going to kiss me, TomTom?” He turned red as a beet and then planted a big kiss on me. I about swallowed my gum.” She and Marigold giggled together again.

“Look, Marigold, there is the house where we saw mean old lady Hawkins sweep that poor cat out of her house yelling, “Git and don’t come back.” We took the cat home and soon found out she was going to be a mama. She birthed six babies under our porch stairs. Tommy and I found homes for every one of those kittens. But the lady cat didn’t stay for long. Soon, she was yowling at some male and took off for parts unknown.”

Elizabeth stayed her distance as she watched her mother roll down the street, stopping often to look around. She watched her wave to a child riding her tricycle up and down the walkway, adding a few words for the girl’s mother, who was guiding her progress.

She enjoyed the sight of Jessie’s face light up as hummingbirds landed in a tree and sipped from a feeder hidden in the branches. Mama was talking to herself, but that was okay. I mean, how bad could that be at seventy years old? She’s happier than I’ve seen her in ages.

Jessie continued reminiscing through the neighborhood with Marigold’s whispers in her ear. Remember this? Remember that? An entire slide show of memories danced in her head on a private marquee meant only for her. Each one brought a smile, a frown, or a quick wheeze of laughter.

“Courage! It only takes one step at a time to chase the autumn leaves once again.” Marigold poked her little finger at the edge of Jessie’s nose.

“But that’s just it!” cried Jessie. “Life isn’t that simple. Where’s my Tommy? Chase the leaves, you say - look at my legs; they are useless in this chair! Walk you tell me, well I can’t do it!”

Marigold’s tiny eyebrows raised in exasperation at her old friend. “You don’t need to walk to see.”

Hearing the sounds of children playing, Jessie followed their laughter till she came to a halt at the entrance of a cul-de-sac. There, she watched a spirited game of basketball by three little boys, maybe six or seven years old. They whooped and hollered, missing the pole and hoop more often than not, chasing the ball exuberantly each time it missed its goal. Jessie couldn’t help but cheer loudly for the youngest, a tubby little cherub with a mass of black curls who actually bounced the ball high into the hoop. He grinned back at her in surprised pleasure.

“See. there’s more than one way to play the game!” Marigold told her. Jessie didn’t miss the double entendre.

Elizabeth leaned against a tree a short way away, content to watch her mother’s hungry expression, thrilled to see her smile with each new sight.

Jessie called out to her daughter as she turned her wheelchair away from the young boys' antics. “Yeah, I know you’re back there keeping an eye on me, Miss Elizabeth. I’m okay, shoo! Go back to work on that computer of yours,”

Elizabeth chuckled but stayed right where she was, pleased with her mama’s progress.

She drew closer when her mother followed the leaves around the corner and found the old convenience store that still enticed the old and young alike. A group of benchwarmers welcomed her mother back into their circle of friendship. The daughter’s heart leaped with joy and relief when Jessie reached out her hands to greet them. The older woman merged into the group like she had never been away.

Elizabeth spent three years watching, waiting, and turning friends and neighbors away who came to call. Without her beloved Tommy, her mama couldn’t bring herself to visit with any of them. Now, perhaps the waiting was over. The daughter sniffed back her tears of relief.

A gentle breeze blew a gust of autumn leaves ahead of her and down the pathway to where her mother now sat in her wheelchair amongst her oldest and dearest companions. She watched Jessie capture a red, gold, and green leaf in her hands, tilting back her head in a chortle of delight. Oh, mama’s laughter! How she’d missed it.

Elizabeth continued her slow amble towards her mother. Somehow, she felt another presence walking beside her, rejoicing in that lovely sound of laughter, enjoying the soothing presence of the leaves guiding them forward.

Marigold whispered a word in Jessie’s ear, then winked away as Jessie glanced up to see Elizabeth walk towards her, her father’s spirit by her side.

Marigold whispered from her new perch on Tommy’s shoulder. “Told you she’d be ok,” and twinkled out of sight.