Keep the Memory Alive

The Beatles. Fleetwood Mac. Duran Duran. The Beatles again. Queen. The Cranberries. Chicago. The Beatles.

I already own every Beatles album.

I finish sifting through yet another box of vinyls and stand up to wipe the dust off of my knees. I love coming to the antique mall, but it’s so large and it’s sometimes hard to find the hidden gems. I’ve been collecting vinyls for years, it’s a hobby of mine. Cleaning the kitchen becomes a less mundane task when the turntable in the living room transports you like a time machine to any concert by any band, dead or alive. I take my time and look closely at all of the items. Every now and then I'll find something else of interest, like the old vintage teapot that I like to display in my entertainment center, but never use. It was a beautiful piece and it was hidden behind an Elvis Presley action figure. If I hadn’t looked closely I never would've have found it. 

I come to an area filled with costume jewelry and knick-knacks. I pick up a pair of guitar shaped earrings, thinking they are unique when I accidentally drop one. “Shit.” I bend down to pick up the earring and assess it to make sure it looks undamaged. It does, thankfully. I prepare to stand up when I see a shiny golden circle lying underneath the shelf. I reach under and grab it. It’s as light as a piece of candy. I run my hands along the indentions in the front of it, filled with a ruby red color. Then, I snap open the latch that holds the front and back together. An old compact mirror. I stare at my miniature reflection. I immediately notice that my makeup is a little runny from the major lack of air conditioning in this place mixed with the mid-summer heat outside. I close the compact mirror and then hang the earring back on it's hook.

I take the mirror up to the front counter to purchase it. I wasn't necessarily looking for a gift for anyone when I came to the antique mall. I just needed some 'me time' to try to find another old record to add to my growing collection, but when I saw that compact mirror I immediately thought of someone who would love it. It was like fate.

When I arrived the front door was unlocked, so I let myself in. That's how it is in my family, even now that i'm 28 years old. The door is always open. "Mom." I say and make my way towards the kitchen. She's not there. I walk down the hallway and peer in each room, but no sign of her. I walk back to the kitchen and peer out the sliding door. Of course. I see my mother standing and staring at her garden. She's wearing her gardening gloves and they're covered in dirt. A shovel stands out of the ground next to her, face down, buried up to it's neck. I walk over to her.

"What'd you plant?" She smiles at me. "A couple different kinds of peppers and another tomato, since the last ones died. What are you out doing?" I pull out the compact mirror and stare down at it, still unable to believe how perfect it was. "Well, I was at the antique mall."

She chimes in. "You and grandma love going there together. Why didn't you call her?" I sigh, but add a half smile to it to keep things light. "Yeah. She's the one who taught me to look at everything, so that you don't miss the hidden gems..." I finally process the second half of her sentence. "Wait, call her?"

She looks at me, confused. "I don't know, you guys usually go together, so i'm just surprised you went alone." Is she joking? She's gotta be joking. Did she fall and hit her head while she was gardening?

"Mom, are you okay?" I ask her. She giggles a little. "Yeahhh, are you doing okay?" I don't answer. I don't know what to think. "Well, i'm gonna make some tea." She says and turns to walk back to the house. I stand there for a moment, puzzled. How could she possibly think that I could invite grandma to the antique mall?

I finally decide to follow her. I walk in right as she presses the button on the brewer. "Do you want to stay and have some, dear?" I think about it for a moment and realize I probably shouldn't leave her alone in case she has a concussion. "Sure. Hey, mom. You didn't get hurt today or anything right? Didn't trip and fall at any point?" She gives me a side eye glance. "Mmm, no. No injuries today. Although last week I did slice my finger a little cutting up a bell pepper." I'm stumped. "Well, you said that I could call grandma, but I can't call grandma. She died." My mom almost drops a glass as she pulls it down from the cabinet. "Kids nowadays and their dark humor, I swear. I just got off the phone with grandma about an hour ago, but that was a nice try. You might've been able to succeed at giving me a heart attack if I hadn't just heard from her."

I'm speechless. I went to grandmas funeral. So did my mother. Just a few weeks ago.

That's why I bought the compact mirror. Grandma and mom used to go bird watching together when they were younger and on the front there is a beautiful red cardinal in the middle, surrounded by the ruby red streaks along the cracks in the casing. It was the perfect item to remind her of grandma. My record collection is what reminds me of grandma. That's why I keep adding to it. To keep the memories alive.

When I leave moms house I decide to drive by grandmas old place out of curiosity. I decided not to give mom the mirror yet. I'll wait until I find out what's going on with her. I'm afraid she might be having a mental breakdown and hearing grandma when she's not really there. As soon as I pull up to the apartment complex I see her red 2010 Ford Fusion parked out in the front. My sister got that car when grandma passed. She drove it to my house just a few days ago. I got out and walked up the stairs to her second floor apartment. I didn't go in when they cleaned it out, it was too much for me. Then, she opened the door.

Grandma stands in front of me. The woman who I last saw lying in a coffin was now filled with life. This can't really be her.

"Hi, sweetie." Says the imposter. "Come on in. I've been expecting you."

The sound of Elenor Rigby performs from the turntable in the living room. The turntable I now own and has been at my house for weeks. She walks into the kitchen and starts stirring something in a metal bowl. "Will you grab the sugar for me, dear? Do you remember where it is?" I have a thought that I should probably be crying right now, or passing out, but i'm so in shock that I can't even muster up a tear. I walk over to the kitchen, keeping my eyes on this impersonation of my grandmother. I open the lower cupboard and get out the pink bag of sugar, then sit it next to her on the counter.

I look closely at the wrinkles on her face. The lines that i've always known so well. It's so accurate. This reconstruction is so accurate. The music choice is so accurate. Now the tears are coming, as I look at her face. They make my cheeks feel slightly sticky as they drench my face. She doesn't look at me. She's putting her all into her baking. She was always like that. She never did anything half way. It was all or nothing. I walk into the living room, sit on the green couch and place a beige pillow in my lap for comfort.

I close my eyes and listen to Yesterday as it slowly gets quieter and quieter.

When I finally open my eyes i'm standing in the middle of the antique mall, staring at my reflection, yet again. The one that I had bought for mom. I never left the store. It's like the mirror transported me to another dimension, a world where my grandma was still around. When I bought the mirror for my mom I was trying to keep the memory alive, but this mirror does more than keep the memory alive. It keeps the thing that you remember alive.

Every time I look into this mirror I can't only just see grandma, but be with her again. I can bake with her and watch her standing in her apron telling me to pass the sugar. I can listen to Eleanor Rigby blast from the other room, over and over again, and while the cookies bake we can dance around and lick the beaters. I can see her in the mirror and I can see so much of her in myself.