It’s not easy
Asha Miller sighed when she got home and saw everything she would need to clean up. She looked at her daughter and told her:
-Are you happy? Now I’ll have to clean up all your mess. If you weren’t only two I’d make you do it.
Mayra smiled and giggled, she always did that when her mother talked to her as if she were a grown up.
-Yes, for sure, first we need to change you to something presentable.
It was in days like this when she most missed her husband. When he was home he would help her with Mayra, he was so good with her, they seemed to communicate at a different level. However, he was gone now, Asha knew that marrying a firefighter did have risks, but still she hadn’t been prepared the day everything happened.
She remembered vividly how, half a year ago, she received the dreaded call telling her to rush to the hospital. How she left the kids at Annette’s, their neighbor, and how the drive to the hospital became blurry. When she got there she was so confused, she didn’t know where she had to go, one of Mark’s colleagues found her asking at the front desk and took her to the ICU. Seeing the man she loved lying on the bed, broken in a hundred pieces, his skin charred, connected to what looked like ten thousand different beeping machines, it made her heart crumble. After that, the days spent by his side, hoping for his recovery but seeing that he was slowly going off. It had been hard, those days she never thought about the kids or about anything else, she only cared about Mark getting well. And finally the day came when there was nothing to be done, when having him connected to the beeping machines would only mean that he would suffer longer, the day she had to unplug him. She thought she wouldn’t be able to do it, but deep in her heart she knew that what Mark had right then wasn’t a life, that he deserved a rest, even if it meant that he would rest forever, even if it meant that she would never talk to him again or have him in her arms. Life was cruel, but it was the right thing to do.
After that the days mixed themselves up, telling Albert that his father would never come back, seeing Mayra feel that something was amiss but not fully understanding what it was. And burying Mark, that had been the hardest part, because burying him meant never being able to see him again. Each word of comfort uttered by a friend, by a neighbor, by a familiar, it felt like a stab on her heart. Each shovelful of sand on his casket was like a memory of his erased.
And then the silence at home, not having him singing in the shower, watching sports on TV, or listening to the radio while cooking breakfast for the family. So much silence. The first days she thought her head would explode because the only time the silence was broken was when the phone rang, and from the day of Mark’s accident she had come to hate that sound. Surprisingly, however, life kept going on, and because she knew that Mark would like her to carry on she decided to be strong, for her and for the kids, but above all for Mark.
Mayra’s laughter took her out of her daydreaming. She had been the main reason why Asha continued with her life. Mayra had been too young to understand what happened, but she had known that her mother needed help and she kept her busy.
She was also the reason why Asha decided to change her job. She used to work as an accounting manager in a large company, it wasn’t a work that made her happy, but it made her feel useful. After all that happened she decided to change her life and work on something she really liked, so she started working as a freelance writer in a culinary magazine. She remembered fondly the hours spent as a kid at her grandmother’s kitchen learning her traditional recipes, and she enjoyed improving those recipes adding some modern touch to them. Sure, it took her lots of time, but it also allowed her to spend more time with the kids and to take care of Mayra every day.
She was cleaning the kitchen of the remainders of Mayra’s breakfast when the doorbell rang. She wiped her hands on a kitchen cloth and headed to the door. When she opened an outburst of energy greeted her.
-Umm, hey… hi, Lara!- she said awkwardly.
-Hi, sweetie! How are you? How are the kids? Where’s Mayra?- she asked while she stormed inside the house.
Asha followed her mother-in-law into the kitchen to the backyard where Mayra was playing. She picked up Mayra and lifted her in the air.
-Oh, my! She has grown a lot! She’s going to be a beautiful little lady that’s for sure.- she said while spinning her around.
Mayra laughed and looked at her with her big dark green eyes. And when her grandmother left her on the floor she ran to hug her leg.
-What do you want Lara?- Asha asked.
-I just came to see my granddaughter.
Asha made a face at that, lifting her eyebrows in incredulity.
-I know you- she said not believing her- you never do anything just because.
-What? It’s true!- her mother-in-law replied.- Well ok, there’s something I want to talk to you about. Let’s go inside.
Lara sat on the kitchen table with Mayra while Asha prepared some coffee. Grandmother and granddaughter looked so much alike that someone might have taken them for mother and daughter, Asha thought while looking at them. She set a coffee mug in front of her mother in law.
-Ok, tell me what do you want to talk about?- she asked.
-My grandson’s dream.
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