The Twins

One more box of photos and I could walk away from my mother, her home, and never look back. The sorting would go quickly, I wanted none of my mothers, but I longed for one of my father. Thousands of pictures and still not one to be found. One picture after another was simply tossed into the garbage beside me. A picture of two toddlers grabbed my attention I knew one was me but had no idea who the other child was. I flipped the picture over, “THE TWINS” was written in my mother’s untidy scrawl. My mother and her games, I tossed the picture into the trash.

 As the picture settled onto the pile, my mind exploded with memories of a young girl. Of us racing along the hall upstairs, fighting over cookies, and swimming together at the beach. Tears streamed unnoticed down my face, heart racing I quickly snatched the photo up and gazed at the figures captured in time. I was dressed in the blue and white sailors outfit my mother loved to force me into. The young girl was dressed in a white dress with a blue-collar. We were standing in the grand hall, our mother with a smile upon her face was standing behind us, dressed to match her children.

I remember that day, we were headed out to the park. Isabel or Izzy as I called her was my twin how could I have forgotten her. Why were there no other pictures or memories of her about? It was about a day or two after this photo that Izzy simply was not there anymore. What happened? How could the memory of my twin simply disappear from my mind? There was something else about that day that niggled at the back of my mind, but it stayed just out of reach.

Digging thru the remainder of the photos did no good. Not another photo to be found of Izzy or my father. Why had my mother obliviated their memory so thoroughly that I had forgotten Izzy and could not recall my father's face? Did she destroy the photos or were they hidden somewhere?

I glanced around the home, or Ravenbrook Manor if you wanted its name. My mother’s family has owned it for hundreds of years, I was going to end that. It was already on the market; it was my final slap to my mothers’ pompous face. There were so many nooks and crannies in the house, if mother wanted to hide something it would have been easy. Did I really want to go thru the effort? Would mother have kept any? After seeing Izzy again, I could not walk away without trying.

Up the opulent stairs of marble and to the left took me towards my mother’s room. Starting my search there seemed right. Mother had forbidden me from entering any rooms along this hall, other than pulling photos from them after her death I had done just that. This was made much easier by the fact that at the tender age of six I was shipped off to an English boarding school. Where I spent every holiday, only returning to Maine in the summers. Mother never visited, I received a card and money on my birthday and Christmas no other correspondence. At first, I wrote many letters home, but soon I quit. The staff became my family and my fellow students my siblings. When I was home, she stayed in her room, and I longed for my return to the family. When I was fourteen, I went home with a friend to France. I did not return to Maine until the notice of my mother’s death reached me in Germany where I now live.

The room at the end of the hall and to the right was my mother’s. I entered it for the second time in twenty-four hours. Neither time brought about any emotions, long ago this woman that lived here was nothing more than my mother in name only. I did not feel guilty for that, she was the one who had separated our ties. This room I had saved for last, it had taken me three weeks to remove all the personal items from the home. The furniture would remain with the estate. The family attorney and I were to meet next week, then I would leave Maine for the final time. Only three boxes of items had I kept. I surprised myself with the items I had decided to keep, mainly memories tied to my younger years, some things that just tugged at me. The search continued but not another box or chest of photos was found, my mother had abandoned them as thoroughly as she had me.

I had breakfast at a small diner, who had surprisingly served an exceptionally good cup of tea. After this, I went to my ten o’clock meeting with Attorney Paul Whitman. Upon entering his office, I was surprised to find a very modern décor. I thought all attorneys liked mahogany desks and staunch pictures upon the paneled walls.

“Good morning, Michael.” His voice was deep and was heavy with a southern drawl.

“Good morning, sir. Will this take long?” I had a flight that afternoon that I was not going to miss.

“Not too long. Mainly need you to sign some paperwork turning over the estate. Your mother left you everything. The estate, including Ravenbrook, is worth twenty-two million. Ravenbrook is yours to do with what you want, although your mother asked me to ask you not to sell. A moot point I know you already have it on the market. Here you go, if you will read and sign each page, we will get this wrapped up.” As I was signing the paperwork that was simple and straight forward Paul moved towards a safe on the wall and removed a white envelope and returned it to the desk.

“This is the last item your mother wanted you to have.” He slid the white envelope across the desk and leaned back in his chair. Sliding my finger under the flap I opened the envelope. Inside was a letter, I shook it open and began to read:

My Dearest boy,

So many times, I have wanted to send this letter to you, but never could make my feet walk to the mailbox. I know that you feel I pushed you away and abandoned you, I guess I did. I have stolen from you precious memories, memories that made my heart bleed. I was wrong about that, but you were so young when it happened, I thought you would forget, and you did. Michael the memories I took was of your twin sister Isabel and your father David. I am sorry, but I could not bear the pain of that fateful day.

We were all dressed in blue and white, a family happy and strong. We were headed to the park for a picnic, your father was going to teach you to fish. We were so happy. Isabel or Izzy as you would call her, ran around with Pipi her bear as your father took you to the lake. That is when tragedy struck, Izzy followed you. It was my fault; I thought your father saw Izzy, but he had not. Izzy fell into the water by the time your father realized it Izzy had sunk. Your father dived and dived looking for her, one time he dived in and did not come back up. I did not know how to swim; you were crying, and I screamed and screamed for help. By the time help arrived it was too late for both.

I did not take you to the funeral, another mistake. The pain was so raw, I removed all memories of them. I even removed you, it was selfish and wrong. Every day I longed to correct my mistake that day if I would have gone after Izzy, but I can not undo any of the mistakes I have made. Not ones made that day or the ones since.

Since this letter is in your hands, I am no longer suffering. You, I am afraid might be, suffering from your mother’s abandonment and the loss of the family you never knew. I do love you Michael and always have. I am sorry for the pain I have caused.

                               Love Mother.

I leaned back in the chair, shaking, the memories from that day pounded into my mind. I could hear Izzy singing, smell the marshiness of the water and hear my mother’s screams. Tears fell unchecked onto my chest. Mother had hidden this tragedy from me, but I could not be mad at her. The pain ran deep, and it would be a long time before I thought of my mother in any positive light. I understood her better now, but that did not resolve all the issues.

“Michael, I know the story. I can not say anything that will ease your pain but there was one other thing your mother wanted you to have.” He pulled a cardboard box out from behind his desk and placed it in front of me. With trembling hands, I reached out and opened it. Inside was the pictures I had been hunting for, as I stared down into the box my father and sister stared back.