Searching for the Moon

Searching for the Moon

Ratna wiped some dust off the photo album. The faux leather was graying in certain areas because of its age and chipped along the edges. She remembered the day her grandmother brought it over.

“I got two of these, red one for me, and this wood color for you, Rina.” Her grandma put the photo album on the dining table as she talked to her daughter.

“Wow, how did you make this fit in your bag, Ma? I mean, this is not just big, but it is also heavy.” Ratna remembered the way her mom held the photo album, feeling its weight.

“My old shoulders had their training carrying you around, remember?” her grandma smiles broadly at her daughter.

“Oh my, just look at how quickly your daughter is growing.” She walked toward the little mermaid desk where Ratna was coloring. “Ratna, what are you coloring?” her grandma bent over to inspect.

“It’s me - swimming in the pool,” Ratna says proudly.

“I see! Well, for a swimming champion, you’re surprisingly an excellent artist, Ratna!” Her grandma couldn’t hide her admiration. “Do you want to be an artist when you grow up?” She gave Ratna a little pinch on her chin.

“No, I want to be a mermaid!”

Ratna remembered how they burst into laughter and her mom came to scoop her off her little chair and squeezed her cheek with kisses. Ratna enjoyed her mom’s kisses so much.

That was thirty-five years ago. Ratna let out a sigh as she slowly opened the photo album. One big black page with four plastic sleeves fit for four 5 x 7 photographs. She ran her finger through a blue heart drawing at the corner of the photograph of a happy little girl riding a brown horse. She could see her dad watching from a bench with a wide smile. Ratna remembered her dad’s wide smile. A smile that could tame anger and hatred. A smile that goes along the way, just like he always said. You never know when your little smile could change someone’s life.

Ratna walked to the little nook corner by the window, clutching the photo album. She saw her mom’s swivel rattan chair with the mocha seat cushion. Her mom’s old sewing machine rested dustily in the middle of the shelf. This corner was always her mom’s favorite spot in the entire house. She’d spent most of her time in that very swivel chair, reading or sewing.

Ratna sat carefully and remembered the joy she had when she sat on her mom’s lap, swinging from side to side.

“How was your test today?” Rina asks her beloved daughter.

“I got one wrong.”

“One wrong? I was pretty sure you’d get a perfect score today. Did you miss something?”

“Technically, I got a perfect score because I gave the right answer. But Mrs. Colfer mistaken my 4 for a 9, and when I informed her, it was, in fact, number 4, she insisted I should’ve written a better 4.”

“Aww…. well, knowing your number 4, I think I agree with Mrs. Colfer. If your number 4 is easily mistaken for a 9, then you should make a better 4. Because you know, 4 and 9 are completely different numbers.” Rina planted a long kiss on Ratna’s cheek.  

“Okay….” Ratna slumped into her mother’s embrace and enjoyed every spin of the chair.

She loved her parents. They were the parents any kid could ever ask for. She remembered how elegant her parents’ appearance was at her second-grade graduation. Especially compared to Caspian’s mom. A woman that looked so bizarre to Ratna’s eight-year-old eyes. Her jagged short green hair resembled painted grass made into a hat, and her many piercings sent a grim impression to Ratna. She winced at the thought of a sharp needle piercing human flesh.

Somehow, on the contrary, she couldn’t remember a single instance in second grade when Caspian misbehaved or had messy hair in the classroom.

Ratna flipped more pages, and every photograph switched on the light on every memory lane. There was one picture of her parents with their cheeks pressed against each other next to a picture of dad in the hospital gown trying to flash a smile holding his IV stand. And then there was a picture where they smiled ear to ear, riding on a motorcycle next to a picture of her dad falling asleep in the back of the car on the ride home from his first surgery.

“Why did you arrange it like this, Mom?” Ratna couldn’t help but ask. “Does it not ruin the moment in some ways, you know, sad?”

“I know, honey. Most people might perceive it that way. But for me, it’s all about balance. Good and bad. Sadness and happiness.” Her mom rose from her seat as the kettle loudly blew its whistle. “This arrangement reminds me to stay humble when I’m happy and it gives me hope when I’m feeling down.”

These memories sent a little uneasy feeling through Ratna’s veins. Just like the photograph of her screaming when the fishhook caught her earrings instead. She gently felt her left earlobe where the scar was. The recollection of the pain sent an urge for her to wince.

She came across a page with a folded newspaper piece tucked into one of the photo slots. Ratna carefully pulled it out. It was her grandmother’s obituary piece. She remembered how her grandma loved to sleep on a hard bed without a mattress, only two layers of blanket as a base and one quilt to keep her warm at night. She established a connection with her only grandchild through gifts and Ratna could feel all the love through them. One thing she missed was ‘a grandpa’. This figure was never in her life nor in her mom’s and grandma’s conversation. So, when she was nine, she invented a fictional grandpa character who had died in a war somewhere. She would share that story with anyone who asked about her grandpa, which was only a few people.

Ratna’s finger gently took out a picture of her mom drafting a pattern that looked so familiar. Her tears spilled when she remembered their conversation that day.

“Hey, you, I saw some of your pictures today. I never knew our garden could be that beautiful in photograph,” greeted Rina as Ratna walked in.

“It’s all about angles and techniques, Mom,” Ratna sat her bag down and stole a chance to sit on the swivel chair. She spun swiftly.

“I’m glad. You have talent in photography.” Rina cut the pattern on the paper.

“What are you making, Mom?” Ratna stopped spinning the chair and paid attention to what her mom was cutting. She marveled at how skillfully her mom’s little hand handled the shears.

“I’m making a quilt for your daddy; the hospital blanket didn’t comfort him.”

“Mom.”

Rina glanced at her daughter but didn’t stop what she was doing.

“Mom.” Ratna got up and approached her mom.

“Yes?” Rina fixed her glasses as she sat her shears down and pushed the sewing tape away.

“We’re in this together. How long does he have?” Ratna’s fingers gently tapped on the drafting table.

Rina sighed heavily. Ratna was a smart young woman now. Her inquisitive mind and intuition were as sharp as the sunlight. 

“Three months, six months at the most,” Rina answers with her lips trembling.

Ratna hugged her mom and tried to comfort her, although she felt like she needed the hug more than her mom did.

As much as she knew her mom, Ratna always thought that she didn’t really know her because of her secretive tendency.

A photograph of her dad smiling widely in his wheelchair, with her sitting on his lap in her graduation gown, caught her vision. She loved her dad dearly for his love and the way he treated her like she was the only princess, but mostly for his charisma. On the day of his funeral, Ratna felt helpless for her future. She would miss out on the opportunity like seeing her dad bonded with her man over a BBQ time. Ratna buried her feelings deeper than the ground where her dad’s casket rested and washed away the bitterness with a heavy sigh. She held back her tears until the night embraced her with its gloominess.

“How do you feel, Mom?” Ratna put the steaming green tea pitcher closer to her mom’s side of the table.

“Like reading bad news, but then you realize the news was about you,” Rina flashed a bitter smile at her only daughter.

It was the first time Ratna saw her mom, so broken, so transparent and fragile.

“We’re all waiting for our time. We’re all going to go there someday, too, Mom.”

“Of course, Ratna. We all know that.” Her mom took a sip of her hot green tea. “Nothing eternal in this world.”

At that moment, Ratna decided it was the right time to pose the old question.

“Mom, do I have a grandpa, did he die?” She was determined to know about the one thing that her grandma and her mom seemed to avoid.

“Oh, dear.” Rina glanced at the ceiling fan briefly before turning to her determined daughter.

“Come here, Ratna.” Rina patted the space next to her, motioned Ratna to come to her.

Ratna moved to snuggle up under her mom’s blanket.

“Okay, I know you’ve been wondering for a long time, but you might want to be prepared.”

“O…kay” Ratna was not sure how to react.

“Ratna, I’m sure you’re familiar with the idea of Prince Charming - every girl’s dream prince. The idea was so charming it wheedled everybody into pursuing one as a life’s goal. Only in real life, the journey of finding the one sometimes takes you to an uncharted world you’ve never imagined you’d be in.”

“Mom, I sense a negative vibe. What happened?”

“Your grandma, my mom, was a mistress.”

“Huh? Mistress… as in… mistress?”

“Yes, she was a woman who had an affair with a married man who promised her the world. She was only eighteen when she first saw him. Dreamy as ever, he was her first and last man. For her naïve heart, his presented love and promises were everything. Her conservative family urged them to tie the knot because of his assertive manner toward her, but despite his many, many, many circular conversations about it, he never actually took any further action towards it. For two years, your grandma was drowning in his charms until she eventually got pregnant with me. The night she told him she was pregnant was the night her big dream and her world shattered into broken pieces.”

Ratna squeezed her mom’s hand, trying to ease her tense.

“He brazenly told her he was a married man with two children and he’s sorry that their relationship could not go any further because his wife had sensed his infidelity.”

“Just like that?!” Ratna had read a story like that, but it hits differently when it happened to a person who you know well, a person in your own family.

Ratna took a deep breath. She remembered that day. A perfect day to enjoy hot green tea, but it turned into a bitter-truth day instead. With her status as a mistress, her grandma was on the villain list. It didn’t matter that she endured verbal, mental, and physical harassment from grandpa’s wife’s family. She was always the bad guy. And her grandma did what she had to do to protect her own family, especially after her daughter, Rina, was born. The baby gave her grandma new hope for life.

The last few pages of the album evoked a unique reaction in Ratna. In order to prevent teardrops from getting on the album’s page, she wiped them off her cheek.

She stroked the picture of her mom on the hospital bed with her cheek pressed against hers. It was the last picture of her mom being able to flash a smile on camera. Two weeks before that, Ratna’s refusal of a simple request haunted her for eternity.

“Ratna, do you remember this photo album?” Rina walked slowly toward the dining table.

“Yeah, the one grandma gave you when I was seven,” Ratna put down the book she was reading.

“Well, almost seven, because your birthday was a month after she gave me this. Anyway, I want you to have this. It’ll be a great memory companion for you.” Rina pushed the album toward her daughter.

“Well, okay, thanks, Mom.”

“Ratna, my appointment with Dr. Sullivan is 9 o’clock tomorrow, and we both know she may not have any good news to share.”

“Don’t say that, Mom. We never know. We hope for the best, remember?”

“But we have to prepare for the worse, don’t you ever forget that.”

“I know, Mom.” Ratna patted her mom’s trembling hands gently.

“Ratna, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Uh-oh, this doesn’t sound good.”

“It depended on how you look at it.”

“Okay, I’m ready.” Ratna took a bite of her crispy breadstick.

“How’s Caspian? Are you two still together?” Rina asks.

Ratna almost spit out her breadstick.

“Yes, we’re closer than ever.” Ratna’s reply seemed like she was reassuring herself.

“Ratna, I’m sorry, baby, but from the way you talk to him or the way you talk about him, I sense something that is ‘not right’.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ratna, you may not know this, but I’ve been through a relationship hell, and it was not pleasant.”

Ratna stared at her mom and tried to figure out where she would go with this. Something told her that a bitter truth was about to reveal itself again.

“You know your grandma’s story, but you don’t know mine.”

“What’s your story?” Ratna braced for the impact on her heart.

“I’m uncertain if our family is under a curse, but I was also a mistress.”

Ratna expressing complete surprise, “Mom! What are you talking about?”

“I know my dad. We all live together, happy as one family. Were we?”

“Yes, that because, unlike your grandpa, your dad divorced his wife for me.” Rina made sure Ratna paid attention. “He believed I was his true love, and I believed he was mine.”

“Oh, God.” Ratna pulled her hair and tried to think clearly. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

“I didn’t understand why our true love and happiness was someone else’s ruin and yes, I felt the guilt throughout our life together.”

“Did he have any children with his first wife?”

“No, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. They were high school sweethearts, went to college together with the full blessings from both of their families.”

“Sounds like a dream-love.”

“Yes, it was - until it wasn’t. The first time we laid our eyes on each other, your dad and I felt the force that drew us to talk, and the second we talked, we felt connection and comfort, and the rest is history.”

Rina walked to her swivel chair. “I only ask - that you handle your love life with care, as the consequences are far-reaching, please. Because I love you.”

           Ratna tried to hide the turmoil she felt inside.

           “The memory of his ex’s disgusted glare still haunts me. It was a mix of brokenness and a deadly intensity that pierced into my mortified eyes. I pray you never have to experience that level of shame.”

“It’s late mom, are you still working on that cardigan?”

“Yes, I want to finish it, but I have only a little time.”

That night, the universe seemed to feel what Ratna felt because it did not stop raining all night. In the morning, when her mom asked for a picture together before her appointment, Ratna couldn’t bring herself to get out of the bed after their conversation the night before. The turmoil in her heart intensified, causing her mind to feel even more chaotic.

She didn’t expect that she would receive a call that afternoon from an emergency room informing her that her mom was involved in a terrible car accident.

Life was so unpredictable, with very limited time to use. Ratna held the photo album tightly to her chest. It’s been three months since her mom’s funeral, and she still felt like she was dreaming. Denial and guilt had been smothering her every moment she breathed.

With the unfinished cardigan draped over her, she kissed the photo album. There’s only one wish in her heart right now. If only she could go back in time, she would have taken the picture her mom asked for that morning.

The vibration of her phone interrupted her solitude.

It was a text message.

Caspian: I’m taking the 2 o’clock train. We should be able to have our dinner by 5 o’clock. I love you.

Ratna felt like her chest was about to burst under the weight of the pressures.

She texted,

Caspian, I’ve known you my whole life and I love you so much. What we have had is wonderful, but I can’t live my life knowing that there are people who would be very broken if we continued our love journey together. I don’t want to be selfish because my happiness is not above your wife and children. They deserve your love, and they deserve to love you in their own manner.

Maybe in a different lifetime we can build our love nest together, but in this lifetime, let our love be a narrative to remember. May time bear witness to our journey and I wish you all the best.

 With love–Ratna

Before Ratna closed the photo album, she caressed her mom’s handwriting on the empty last page of the album. It was her favorite quote.

Look at the moon in the sky, not the one in the lake.

Rumi