Remember

Remember

Written by Jennifer Ferris

"I wrote you a poem – you're not allowed to laugh!"

She sat down next to him on the grass, tucked her legs under her and opened the piece of paper. Her eyes trailed over the lines and she shook her head, smiling.

"Alright, so it's not very good poem, rhyming is hard. I'll just leave it here for you.  "

She placed the paper beside her, tucked her hair behind her ears, a nervous habit of hers and then smiled a small smile as she opened a second piece of paper.

"I actually wrote you a letter. I wasn't sure if I was just going to leave it for you or read it to you but today is a special day so I'm going to be brave and read it."

"My love,

I was just fifteen when we met, a novice to love and extremely awkward. But you loved me anyway.

I was just twenty when we got married, a little bit more familiar to love and not quite as awkward but still stumbling to find myself. You loved me anyway.

I was twenty two then twenty four then twenty six and twenty seven when we had our daughters. Love was embedded in us all by then but I was tired. Busy and so very tired. And you loved me anyway.

They grew up and I had to remember how to be just me again, we had to find us again and even though it was a long road to walk you held my hand the whole way.

You were there for every birth and every loss and I tried to do the same but you always made it feel easier than it was – how did you do that?"

She took a breath and ran her fingers through the soft, green lawn, waiting for the water to clear from her eyes and she could read clearly again.

"I was thinking about the trip we took to the Island – we were so young. We both nearly died on that trip. Well I nearly died, and I nearly killed you. The infamous prawn poisoning of '85 where we played tug of war over the toilet seat for two days. You complained so badly I contemplated murder. But then you redeemed yourself by saving me after my kayak floated away. I still maintain I would've figured out how to inflate the life jacket eventually, I just panicked a little. But you still saved me.

 It was watching you though, helping all those people rebuild after the unexpected storm hit, that, in spite of the throwing up and the week of thunder and hail, made it the most magical trip. I was just in awe of you. I saw you find your purpose and it made me so proud and so envious. You helped those people just as you saved me and you have been saving us all ever since.

We didn’t know it at the time but I was pregnant on that trip (we both thought the morning sickness was the lingering effects of the prawns). And there again, you not only showed me the power of your love but you gave me the gift of creating love. Four times over I was taught the meaning of unconditional love. I'm sorry it took me so long to realise it was five times over, for you too showed me, in every way, the meaning.

We came back from that trip, me preparing for motherhood, you preparing to take on the world, both of us committed to each other and our lives together.

We moved houses, moved countries, moved out and back in. We fought and made up, repeatedly, and raised our strong willed, passionate and kind children...."

"Hang on a minute...." she pulled her vibrating phone out of her pocket, "well would you look at that, it's like they know."

"Hello offspring," she said as she answered the video call

"Hi Mama," they chorused back

"To what do I owe the pleasure of having all four of you on the line?"

"We wanted to talk to daddy."

"Of course you did," she smiled while pretending to be put out

"We love you too Mama."

"I know. "

She flipped the camera on the phone to point away from her and listened to her children espousing different variations of, "Hi Daddy, whats's up Daddio, we love you Daddy."

Her heart swelled to aching point, emotion so pure but still so challenging for her to handle that with a wobble in her voice she said goodbye and disconnected.

"We did an amazing job with them. They're wild like me and loving like you. What a team!"

She put her phone away and picked up her letter, "I'm nearly done, thank you for listening."

"...I watched you thrive all while feeling like I was falling and failing. I watched you build a legacy, for me, for our family and I wondered what I could give back. I marveled each and every day at your insights and stood in amazement of you while you showed everyone endless kindness. I sat beside you in anticipation of who you would help next.

I now sit here, beside you, watching our daughters fly. All of them making a difference the world over, Soph in America managing Jess in Africa, both working for Heroes with Hammers, continuing the work you started. Abi and Kate, closer to home but impacting others just as much with their art and documentaries. And I find myself fully understanding, finally understanding, that I can fly too.

It took me a long time and all of your love to know that not only was I worthy of the love you gave so freely but that I too had as much to give.

And then I watched you soar. With love under your wings you took the most beautiful flight.

Thank you is not sufficient. Instead I give you a promise to remember.

I will remember the love, more than fifty years of it.

I will remember the journey - mine and ours.

I will remember to be and love in every moment, and remember that it was you that gave this gift to me.

And I will never forget us."

She wiped her eyes one last time as she stood, gently placing the letter and flowers on the grass above him.

"Happy birthday my love. Until we are together again."