I arrived home from a GOD AWFUL day at work.”Why is it I’m never patted on the back for doing a good job?” I thought to myself. “One flipping mistake and I’m reprimanded in a room full of people. Dammit, why do I care so much?”
“You care because you’re made that way!”
I spun around. Was it my mother’s voice I heard? It really was a bad day if I heard voices. I changed into comfortable clothes, poured myself a glass of wine and sat on the porch. I needed to be outside where the air was fresh. It would cleanse the odour of failure. What an awful work day. No what an awful work year. “Why do I care?” I asked myself again.
“Aren’t you listening to me? You care because you’re made that way. Remember how we used to sing, pick yourself up, dust yourself down and start all over again? You saw me do just that more times than I care to remember.”
I began to cry. Not big heaving sobs, but tears of sadness and exhaustion trickled down my face. Darkness settled around me, the birds silenced as the sounds of night took over. The chair next to me creaked a little, as though some one has shifted position. I dried my eyes and went inside to pour myself another glass of wine. The wind chimes played a soft tune with no help from the wind. As I approached the front door the porch light dimmed. One of the bulbs must have gone, I though to myself as I walked towards the soft glow.
The night was silent. You could have heard a pin drop. No birds, no crickets, not even the whisper of a breeze.
I sat down, knowing something was about to happen, and then she spoke.
“Talk to me, little girl, tell me what’s wrong”
“I’m not her for long so talk to me. What can I do?” Yes, it was my mother’s voice. The glow that surrounded me wasn’t from electricity, it was her warm, healing aura.
“I’m lost mum, I don’t know where I’m going or where I’ve been. I’m just lost.”
“No, you’ve hit a bump in the road that’s all. Don’t let it get you down. Move on.”
“Move on to what? Move on to where? What do you mean.” I asked
“Move on to what makes you happy. Learn from your mistakes and don’t make them again. We had some rough times you and I, but we survived. You can get through this.”
The light was fading. “Mum, don’t go, stay a while longer.”
“I wish I could pet, but its time for me to leave.”
The porch light came back on, but the glow was harsh. I went back inside. She was right. Even if I’d just imagined my mum, her words were right. As I turned to lock the screen door a sweet smell wafted through. It was the smell of Sweet Peas, Lily of the Valley and vanilla, it was the smell of my mother.