Unhappy New Year

           “Happy New Year!” Rick heard his neighbors shout out as he sat on his sofa in the darkened room.

           In his mind, there was not a lot of reason to celebrate and be happy. This past year had been the most difficult of his life.

           It began back in February when his mother was diagnosed with COVID. She and her husband, Rick’s disgruntled stepfather, Jack, refused to get a vaccination to protect them against the serious and sometimes fatal affects of the virus. Rick’s mother was hospitalized on February 28^th. Her lungs were filling up quickly with mucous, and she was placed on a ventilator to keep her alive.

           Rick was unable to visit her while in the hospital because of government restrictions, so he had to rely on Jack to keep him updated since he was the one who the hospital contacted for emergencies. Jack, however, was less than co-operative. He spent most of his days in a drunken stupor in front of the television and missed most of the calls from the doctor about her condition. Rick tried several times to contact the doctor himself, but Jack did not add his name to the contact list at the hospital, so they would not release any information.

           After clinging to her life for just under two months, Rick’s mother passed away…alone. Again, because of restrictions, even the funeral was difficult to organize. They were limited to a small gathering at the church, then even less at the cemetery. Those who knew Rick, passed on their condolences through phone calls and emails, and some even sent sympathy cards in the mail, but nothing could help hold back the tears over the loss of his mother.

           Shortly after the funeral, Rick sat in an attorney’s office for the reading of his mother’s will. Jack was there, of course, along with his Aunt Jennifer and his Uncle Logan, his mother’s only siblings. His aunt wept fiercely into his handkerchief as the attorney began reading.

           “To my sister, Jennifer, I leave you all of my clothes since you have been borrowing them since we were kids. To my brother, Logan, I leave you my record collection that you had always admired.”

           A half-smile formed on Logan’s face as he sat there dry-eyed. Rick looked with disgust at his uncle. He and Rick’s mom had not spoken in years, and the only reason he was there, was to see what he could get. The attorney continued.

           “To my husband, Jack, I leave the house and all the furnishings. Finally, to my son Rick, I leave you the contents of a trust that I had set up for you years ago. My attorney will give you the details.”

           The attorney handed Rick a small wooden box. When Rick opened it, he found a small brass key sitting atop a folded piece of paper. Rick removed the paper and opened it up. The letterhead on the paper was from the National Trust Bank. It stated that there had been a safety deposit box opened under Rick’s name. Rick could see Jack trying to peek at the letter, so he quickly folded it back up and returned it to the box.

           A few days had passed before Rick decided to check out the contents of the safety deposit box. He entered the bank and told the clerk why he was there. He was led to the rear of the bank, then down a short hallway to a locked room. The clerk punched in a four-digit code on the keypad, and a loud *CLICK* sounded.

           They entered the room, and were surrounded by hundreds of silver boxes, each with a set of two locks. The clerk pulled out a key that was attached to a lanyard around his neck, and Rick took out his key as well. Together, they inserted the keys and unlocked the safety deposit box. The clerk then slid the box from its compartment on the wall and set it on the table in the middle of the room. He then left Rick to examine the contents on his own.

           When Rick opened the box, he found another folder piece of paper. It was a letter from his mother that read,

           “My dearest son, Rick. If you are reading this letter, I must have passed on. I am sorry to have left you alone. You have always been my pride and joy.

           I knew what kind of man I was married to with your father, so I started putting things away for you several years ago. Then, I hadn’t learned my lesson when Jack came along, so I kept this from him as well.

           Everything you find in this box is under your name. You will find a business card for the bank manager in here, a nice gentleman named, Mister Alister Baker. On the back of the card, is an account number. Ask Mister Baker to provide you with the paperwork you need to sign so you can access this account.

           Also in this box, are some pictures of us when you were still young. I want you to remember the happy times before things turned for the worse.

           I will always be with you, Rick. You won my heart before you were born, and that love never faltered.

                                                                                                           Love, Mom”

           Rick stared at the letter for a moment, then picked up the photos. A slight smile appeared on his face as he remembered the days they spent on the beach when he was a child. Another picture was of their trip to a campground. They did not have much, but they always found ways of having fun. His mother was his life. A tear slowly cascaded down his cheek and across his jawline before dropping silently to the floor of the bank. He wiped his tears and regained his composure, then asked to speak with Mister Baker.

           The bank manager was a portly, grey-haired gentleman who wore a sharp pinstripe navy blue suit. Rick introduced himself, and Mister Baker offered his condolences.

           “Your mother was an incredible woman. Genuinely nice indeed. I was sorry to hear about her passing.”

           Rick acknowledged his compliment with a smile and a nod of his head.

           “I know that your mother had set up a trust account for you here at our branch. Do you have the account number, by chance?” the manager asked.

           Rick handed over the business card and Mister Baker typed it into the computer. Moments later, pages began to pop out of the printer. He gathered them up, read them over, and slid them in front of Rick with a pen.

           “You just need to sign here at the bottom and initial the changeover to your signature right here,” he told Rick.

           Rick lifted the papers and began to read them over. When it came to the total balance in the account, Rick thought there had to be some sort of mistake. It stated that he had over a million dollars.

           “Are you sure you got the correct account?” Rick asked.

           “Quite sure. Your mother invested a small amount each week for the last twenty years into his account. Our investment team took that money and invested it into various stocks, bonds, and GICs to give you the amount you see today.”

           Rick, despite his new fortune, still mourned for his mother and could not feel the excitement that one normally would.

           With the housing prices increasing very quickly, he avoided making a real estate investment at that time. Instead, he decided to take a trip, but when he tried to book a flight out of the country, he couldn’t because of COVID restrictions.

           When summer arrived, Rick spent a few days at his Aunt Jennifer’s cottage. He had not told anyone about the money yet, but his aunt kept edging him on, trying to find out about how much money Rick was left in the trust account. Rick finally had enough and headed back to the city. He wondered how family could turn so petty and greedy whenever someone passed away.

           The rest of the summer was spent working long hours, not because he needed the money, but because it kept him from thinking about all the things that depressed him. At least when he worked to the point of exhaustion, he could sometimes sleep through the night.

           Before he knew it, leaves began to change colors on the trees outside his apartment. The red, yellow, orange, and green foliage created a colorful landscape that Rick found extremely satisfying. He would stare out the window for hours or go for a walk through the park for a better look.

           Just a few weeks after the color change took place, the leaves began to fall to the ground. He knew that winter was upon him, and yet the pandemic was still going strong. New strains of the virus kept emerging, and the conspiracy theorists continued to claim that it was all propaganda designed by the government. They insisted that the deaths of millions was over-exaggerated for the sake of scaring people into getting a vaccine that they felt did no good in the first place. That was how Jack thought and he had convinced Rick’s mom of the same false truths. Now she was dead, and Jack still lived. Rick wondered how that could be considered fair. Why was he spared and a great person like her was taken? Rick’s depression began to set in.

           Winter came in like a lion with a massive snowstorm that buried the city with almost two feet of snow overnight. All roads were closed, and Rick was not able to get into work, so he sat in his living room watching television all day, and that was where he remained for several days. Friends tried to convince him to get together for a drink or join in on various New Year celebrations that were happening in his building, but he refused.

           As he listened to people cheering and having a fun time in the surrounding apartments, Rick became increasingly depressed. The world around him began to collapse upon him and the darkness soon enveloped his whole existence.

           It was weeks later when neighbours began to complain about a foul odor coming from Rick’s apartment, that the landlord opened it up for the police. That was when they found Rick curled up on the sofa surrounded by weeks worth of garbage and food containers.

           His skin was pale, and he appeared thin and frail. The police office approached Rick’s body expecting the worst. The air in the room was frigid and the officer asked his partner to close the sliding door that was open slightly.

           The officer announced himself and called out Rick’s name, but there was no reply. He laid his hand upon Rick’s neck to check for a pulse, and Rick let out a weak gasp. The freezing air in the room helped to create a cloud of breath that seeped out of Rick’s shriveled lips.

           The officer immediately called for an ambulance to attend the scene. By the time the paramedics reached the hospital, Rick’s vital signs were virtually non-existent, and the doctor went to work on him right away.

           When he awoke in the recovery room, Rick was confused. He couldn’t recall anything that had happened to him. The doctor on duty told him that he was lucky to be alive. If they did not find him when they did, he would not have made it through the night. Rick became upset.

           “Why couldn’t you just let me die?” he pleaded. “There is nothing left in this world for me. I don’t want to live anymore.”

           The doctor ordered the nurse to give Rick a sedative to calm him down. When Rick woke the next time, a woman sat by his bedside. She said she was one of the Counsellors at the hospital and wanted to give Rick a chance to discuss his feelings with her. She said her name was Mary.

           Rick refused to discuss anything at first, but Mary was a very patient woman and eventually got him to open up about his mother, and his feelings toward his stepfather. After his release from the hospital, Rick continued to see Mary at her office until he finally felt in control of his emotions.

           Mary convinced him to take part in a program where he could speak with others about his struggles. He was hesitant at first fearing that talking about it so often would draw up old memories, but instead, it helped him keep the negativity at bay. He was no longer holding in his emotions, so his anxiety and depression no longer had a chance to develop.

           There were even a few young people he spoke to that found so much truth and empathy in Rick’s story, that they were able to feel better about themselves as well. Rick decided to take a lot of the money that was left to him and invest it into a facility to aide people with mental health disorders. He convinced Mary to lead the team.

           The facility was named “The Felicity Treatment Centre” after his mother, since the name, Felicity, literally means, “the ability to find appropriate expression for one’s thoughts.”

           In time, Rick and Mary evolved from a professional relationship into a personal relationship, and they continued to share their gifts and experiences with those who needed them.