An Eternity Apart

Even after eleven years of separation, it still feels nothing has changed in this town. As the taxi drops me off by the door, I wonder if it's too late to run back in and go home, but I know that I've been holding off this talk for far too long. If she doesn't forgive me, I would understand, at least reached out and tried. At least I would still get to see her again. Walking up to that small brick house feels like the hardest thing I've done in my life. The white picket fence mocks me, and the daisies lined at the sidewalk jeer at my every step. It scares me and makes me want to forget this and run away, but I continue on. Every step seems to break me down more and more until it feels likeI'm dragging a ball and chain at my ankles. But I know these feelings of fear and dread will be nothing compared to looking my daughter in the eyes again. The last time I saw those beautiful, bright green eyes, they were full of anger and grief as I mocked her for her hard work and her choices. She had only asked for my feedback on a story she was writing.

"Honestly-" I said. "When are you going to get your head out of the clouds and find a real job, one where you can stay stable and safe?! You need to forget this silly dream and look at the real world, and in the real world, you don't get to be whatever you want to be!"

I had never wanted to make her cry. I had never wanted to see her break.

Christmas morning was the last time I saw her. I had gotten her a red hat, and she had gotten me a sweater. My last memory of her is when she looked me in the eyes and told me she never wanted to see me again. My daughter, the girl who used to scrape her knees on the driveway, who got into playground fights with the boys at school, who had looked at me with excitement all those years ago and told me that she had written a book, and the disappointment in her eyes at my disapproving look. I was so worried about her, that I never stopped to consider what she had wanted. Now, she was doing fine without me. Better than fine. According to the internet, she had written five bestselling novels, an award-winning series, gotten married, and now had a three-year-old son. I had bought and read every single one of her books. As I read them, I could feel the emotion and passion coming from my daughter. I knew exactly what she was basing the conflicts of her stories off of, and with every novel, I saw myself where other people saw the antagonists. Now, because I wasn't there when she needed me most, she would never need me again. I couldn't watch her walk down the aisle, I have never met my son in law or my grandson. I couldn't celebrate with her when each of her books launched, or celebrate her birthdays. I want to see her again. I want to be apart of her life, I want to hold my grandson. I want to see the woman she grew up to be. I want to be a mother again. I want to be her mother again.

Just seeing her eyes again is fine enough for me.

Taking a deep breath, I knock at the door. A dog barks behind the door, and I hear footsteps. A little blond-haired boy with my daughter's eyes opens the door.

"Hi lady! Can I help you?" he said.

I was about to respond when a woman came running down the stairs.

"Caleb, how many times do I have to tell you to not answer the door?" she says. She looks like she's about to give a lecture when she sees who it is at the door.

How is it that even after all these years, my daughter still looks exactly the same to me? She looks at me with stunned eyes. I look back at her with tears in my eyes and a smile. She's wearing the hat I gave her.

"Can I come in?" I ask.

She begins to cry. I cry with her as she pulls me into a tight hug. I hold her tight in my embrace as we sink down to the floor. I catch Caleb out of the corner of my eye, looking confused at why his mother is crying. I don't bother to explain. My daughter is in my arms for the first time in eleven years, and I'm afraid that if I let her go now, I'll lose her all over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she says over and over again.

I just kiss her forehead and pull her in tighter.

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about," I say.

After what feels like an eternity, we pull apart, both of us sobbing and Caleb still confused behind us.

"Mommy, who's this?" he said.

"This is your grandma, Caleb," she said. "My mother."

I kneel down to his level.

"Hello Caleb, how are you?" I say.

He looks at me with a confused smile on his face.

"I have a grandma?" he says, looking back at my daughter.

She just laughs and picks him up.

"Yes, yes you do," she said. "I'll explain everything later, but hopefully, you'll be seeing a lot more of her.

She looks back at me with an indescribable joy in her eyes, one that I hope to see for the rest of my life.

"Will you come in?" she says.

My smile is so wide I fear it might break, but I don't care. My daughter is here, my grandson is smiling at me, and I can see nothing but them and the radiant smiles on their faces.

"I would love too."