Process of Forgiveness

It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. 

Her mother’s house still stood tall and lonely at the end of the street. The porch swing still hung from the roof, swinging gently in the breeze. The color of the swing was slightly faded, but it could only be from the wear of the weather. No one was ever allowed to sit on the porch swing. There was the irrational fear of it breaking under any added weight. Of course it was only the fear of her mother. 

Staring at the porch swing brought back memories of a past argument with her mother. 

“But Mom! C’mon! If we can’t sit on the porch swing, it’s not fulfilling it’s porch swing destiny. Do you really want to be the reason the porch swing doesn’t advance in life?” exclaimed six-year old Adora. She had just been pulled off the porch swing and smacked for disobeying her mother’s strict rules. 

Her mother had crossed her arms and glared down at her daughter, “Excuse me?” 

Young Adora had stared back defiantly up at her mother and crossed her own arms, ignoring the pain she just witnessed upon her bottom, “You’re just making up the fact we can’t sit on the porch swing. And it is so unfair! The porch swing deserves to sat on. And swung on!” 

“Adora! Stop speaking your nonsense this instant! Grow up, would you? You’re supposed to be a good role model for your brother,” her mother scolded once more. Her skirt hid her son, Denis, who peeked out to look at his sister and watch her get in trouble. 

A hand on Adora’s lower back helped bring her back to the present. She blinked and turned to face the owner of the hand; her fiance. She smiled as he kissed her cheek and followed her lead into the actual house, passing the forbidden porch swing and a planter full of wilting flowers. 

Adora took a second glance at the flowers and shook her head. Her mother would never have let those flowers look the way they did if she was feeling well and alive like always. It was sad to think her strong-willed and stubborn mother wasn’t well enough to take care of her valuable possessions. And it didn’t stop there. 

Adora and her fiance walked into the middle of the house, the dining room. The entire first floor was open-concept; good for a mom who raised two children who only differed in age by a couple years and loved to cause trouble. From the dining room, Adora could see down the hallway to her mother’s room. The door was closed, and only a thin sliver of light escaped under the door. She could also see her brother’s old old room. It was now a guest room, but it used to be his baby room. It was Adora’s baby room too, but the walls were still blue from when Denis was a baby, so it was remembered as his room. 

From the Dining room, the kitchen could be seen. It was beautiful. The vintage white granite counter tops and the oak countertops hadn’t changed one bit. The gray and white brick backsplash stood out in the beam of sunlight streaming through the window above the sink. A vase of colorful flowers, obviously from the grocery store down the street, sat looking pretty next to the sink, absorbing just enough light to stay alive. Denis must’ve snuck them in while their mother was sleeping, because she always hated seeing those chemical-dipped flowers at the store, slowly dying and wilting away while no one cared for them. 

From the dining room, they could see the living room. The couch, the damn overly floral couch, still had it’s slipcover on it. The stupid plastic cover that Nonnas keep on their white furniture to protect it from people and the messes they bring. It had been on that same couch for more than thirty-six years; that’s longer than Adora had even been alive. And the couch still looked as if it had just been delivered and taken off the truck. 

“Hey! You’re finally here! Welcome home, Adora,” exclaimed an all too familiar voice. The voice of her brother. 

Adora turned around and faced her brother with a tight smile. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but he knew what she was thinking. There was no way, even if hell froze over, that Adora would ever consider this place her home. But she was polite, “Hi Denny, how are you?” she asked.

Denis just shrugged, “Y’know, I don’t really know. With all of this going on. I’m just hoping everything smooths over with you and Mom. The doctor said that it could be any day now, no matter how much I pay him to say something different and make it that way,” he paused and his eye caught Adora’s fiance, “Excuse me, sis, who is this?” 

Adora’s eyes widened and she laughed quietly, “This is Oliver, my fiance. Oliver, this is my brother Denis,” she introduced them to each other, gesturing from one to the other. They shook hands and said their formalities like “Nice to meet you,” and “Just call me Denny, I hate my given name.” 

But while they joked and got to know each other, Adora got to thinking. She knew her mother was dying. 

There was a noise from the back room and Denis excused himself from their company to go check on what was going on

And Adora knew this was her last chance to officially make things right with her before it was too late. Yes, it had been twenty-four years since they had last seen or even had a real conversation with each other. All communication had been cut, especially after the incident. 

But Adora also knew her mother, despite childhood events and memories, was not a monster. And she hoped that her mother could forgive her for everything. 

Denny stepped out of the back room, and quietly closed the door behind him. Upon seeing Adora standing in the middle of the living room still, his eyes lit up and moved quickly towards her. His arms were open wide as he neared her, and engulfed her stiff body into a warm hug. And eventually he felt her melt into it. There really was no resisting his warmth. 

Adora hugged him back, and they just stood there, hugging, for a couple moments longer than one would expect from siblings. 

Denny was first to step back though, a huge smile plastered on his face. He stood a couple inches over his sister, enough to make him look down at her. But he gestured over his back to the last door in the hallway, “She’s awake. And she was asking for you, but don’t tell her I told you, she doesn’t think I heard her,” he whispered, a little too excitedly. 

His sister just smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath and shook out her hands as she exhaled. Something she had been doing since she was little, only to shake the nerves off and put on a brave face. Adora made her way down the hall, nearly smacking Denny’s hand when he patted her head as she passed. Something he had been doing since they were little just to irritate her. 

She walked briskly and lightly down the hall. Just to avoid an old argument they’ve been having since she learned to walk in the first place. Her mother’s room was the last door on the left. Right next to the towel closet and the now guest bathroom. Convenient for her to know what was going on when she still had her children living with her. 

Adora knocked softly on the door. From inside the room, she could hear an audible sigh and a soft “Come in,” from a voice she hadn’t heard in so long. 

Opening the door, the smell of Miranda enveloped Adora. For as long as she could remember, her mother wore the same perfume everyday for her entire life. But it wasn’t like some women wear perfume; it wasn’t too much where if anyone got in a 10 foot radius that they’d lose all ability to breath, but it also wasn’t too little where it seemed there was nothing on her to cover any unwelcome body odor. Not that Miranda ever smelled badly, because she said it was disgraceful and bad for her reputation. But the amount of perfume was always just right, just like Goldilocks. 

Miranda appeared very small and frail laying in her bed. Coming out of her nose was one of those nasal cannulas, to help her keep breathing steadily.  Under her head lay two pillows, most likely the down pillows filled with feathers instead of fluff. And to her side was what looked like two firmer pillows to slightly cage her and keep her from falling off the bed. She was covered in two blankets; a quilt her mother had crocheted for her, and a comforter that Adora had bought for her when she was 10. To be fair, it was from the flea market, but she had also seen the lady make it and hang it in a store window for three months before she bought it. Two more blankets were folded and laid neatly across the wooden chest at the end of the bed.

Adora assumed they were just in case she got colder during the night. Denny was really going all out to make their mother’s final days as comfortable as possible. But now she knew she needed to get through this before she chickened out completely. She took a step closer to the bed, “Hi Mom,” she said quietly, then realized she probably couldn’t hear her, “It’s me; Adora. Your daughter,” she said a little louder. 

Miranda only scoffed and sat up more, “ I know it’s you, I could hear you clomping down the hall like a horse. Did I not teach you to lift your feet and walk lightly?” she asked, scolding her daughter like she was seven again.  

Her daughter took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying her best to calm down and not get into this with her again. Nothing - including her very own mother - had changed at all in the past twenty-four years. 

To avoid a fight, and another lecture, Adora smiled and moved a little closer to the bed, “Yes, you did. I’m sorry, Mom, how are you feeling otherwise?” she asked, trying to change the topic as quickly as possible. 

Her mother sighed and she slumped back against the pillows, “Absolutely dreadful, dear. You know that I am not one to lay around in bed all day, but I-, goodness me, I have no energy and it is just so frustrating,” she explained. There was a break in her voice, and Adora could tell that her mother was genuinely upset. 

She wasn’t done though, “My flowers are wilting in the backyard, and especially in the front by the door. It’s absolutely disgraceful for all of these unwelcome people coming to pity me to have to pass by DEAD flowers. And I can’t ask your brother to do it because he’s so busy and clumsy. He might hurt them-” 

Adora cut her off, earning a glare from her mother. But Adora only smiled and sighed, “Mom, I’ll care for your flowers. You don’t need to worry about it anymore, okay? If there’s anything you really taught me was how to garden properly,” Adora assured her. 

Miranda stared at her daughter in shock, her mouth slightly agape. 

Adora grinned and wagged her finger at her mother, “Mother, close your mouth, you’ll catch flies if you let your mouth hang open like that. What are you? A frog?” She mockingly scolded. 

Her mother quickly shut her mouth and grinned, “I would really appreciate that, Adora. Thank you, dear,” she murmured. And then she did something that Adora never expected from her mother; Miranda gestured to the chair made by her grandfather that sat next to her bed, and encouraged her daughter to sit and talk more. 

Adora happily moved the chair closer to the bed and positioned it so her mother didn’t have to turn her head to see her. She knew that being here was fixing their relationship, and that’s all that mattered.