I Remember (Remembrance Series)

by Cynthia P. O'Neill

  “I don’t like the sound of this guy. What does he want in return?”

  I looked pleadingly at Uncle Tom and Mom for some assistance. “I admit, I was apprehensive at first, too. But, Dad had a good feeling about him and encouraged me to continue talking and just take things slow.”

  I explained how he helped Jerry, the Courier, and reminded her that the meal we were eating was courtesy of him.

  Thankfully, Uncle Tom interjected. “I think we have asked Jordan enough for now. This guy sounds like a compassionate young man; she just needs to get to know him a little better.” He smiled and gave me a wink.

  I cleaned off my plate and put it in the dishwasher, making a mental note to run it later and turned to my Mom. “Do you need me at the moment? If not, I’m going to go take a shower and change into some fresh clothes.”

  “Go right ahead, Sweetie. Take all the time you need. I have Melinda and Tom to keep me company.”

  I gave her a big hug. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  I went to my room, closed the door and turned on the shower. I was thankful my parents had me take the Master Suite with the added privacy, when we first moved into the house. The layout of the room didn’t accommodate their furniture easily and they opted for the large bedroom down the hall.

  I stepped into the shower, turning on the waterproof radio in search of some soothing light rock. An unfamiliar song began to play and I soon found myself daydreaming.

  I kept picturing Gregory in my mind, mixed with my dreams of Daniel and Angeline. The dreams of past times were so real and intense to me, as was the love I could see and feel between Daniel and Angeline. For some strange reason, the words to the song were really messing with my mind, “I Knew I Loved You…” The DJ brought me out of my trance by announcing the song was by Savage Garden and I found myself able to focus again and finish my shower.

  I opted for a pair of comfortable jeans, a light pink t-shirt and some sneakers. I toweled off my hair, in an attempt to get rid of some of the dampness. Lately, I had been in so much of a rush to get to work or to the hospital that I didn’t bother with anything but washing and half drying it, which my dad loved because it curled slightly.

  I kept lifting it up and swirling it around here and there, finally deciding to leave it natural today, and honoring Dad with an updo and ringlets, which he loved, for the viewing and service.

  I gathered up my dirty clothes off the bed and noticed I had a voicemail message. “Hi, Jordan. It’s Gregory. Sorry to call today, but wanted to check and make sure you are doing okay and see if you needed anything. I hope you are resting. Call when you can. Take care of yourself.”

  I decided I would check on Mom before calling him back. It was already three o’clock and he had only called about ten minutes ago.

  As I stepped out of my bedroom, I heard a new voice and realized we had company in the living room. I rounded the corner and realized it was our minister, Pastor Bob, here to discuss the service.

  I quickly shook his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jordan. Your father was a wonderful man.”

  My eyes started to tear, but I was able to refrain from going to pieces. “Thank you.”

  I took a seat next to Mom and listened to the discussion, captivated by my mother’s descriptions and marveling at how well she was holding up, given the circumstances.

  It wasn’t long before I realized I couldn’t handle listening to anymore of the conversation about Dad. “Would it be all right if I went for a walk? I’m sorry, but I need to clear my mind. I’m just not able to handle this right now.” I choked out.

  Uncle Tom asked, “Did you want anyone to walk with you or do you want to be alone, right now?”

  “Thanks, but I would prefer to be alone.” I tried to smile, but all I wanted to do was run screaming out of there. I could not face discussing the end of my father’s life.

  I grabbed the phone, my ID and some cash, telling mom I was going downtown and would probably do some window shopping. I ran out the door before I had a chance to breakdown.

  My steps were fast paced and I knew my mind was trying to block the grieving process. On a normal day, it would take me about twenty minutes, maybe longer, to reach downtown. Today, I reached it ten.

  I was worn out and a little overheated, so I ducked into a bookstore to see if there was anything interesting to read. Mystique Books had a broad selection of both fiction and non-fiction, but they also had some unique mystical books. I dug through their mark down bin to see if anything caught my eye.

  I kept pushing some to one side so I could see the other titles but nothing caught my interest. However, one book kept falling off the pile and resting right in my line of sight, no matter where I pushed it. Prophecies of the Ancients: A Compilation of Predictions and Warnings.

  A déjà vu moment hit me with full force. Had I already looked through these books? I knew I hadn’t. That’s when I sensed a pair of eyes watching my every move. I looked around but did not recognize anyone. So, I shook off the peculiar feeling and continued looking.

  I picked up the book of prophecies to place it back on the discarded pile and I felt an electrical current run through it. A chill ran down my spine and I let it drop to the floor. I quickly turned around and left the shop.

  As I walked away from the store, I wondered why I had a violent reaction to a book. The only other time I had ever had an uneasy response like that was around Pamela. I shook my head for a moment and decided that my exhaustion was causing all these strange reactions.

  I noticed a coffee shop on the next corner and decided to go in. The shop was inviting, with several bistro tables in addition to some comfy chairs by the windows.

  The shop was busy with several students from the local university using the Wi-Fi system.

  My throat was parched, so I went to the counter to place my order. I opted for an herbal hot tea, with a little lemon and honey, hoping for a calming effect.

  The coffee barista started a tab for me and said he would bring me the tea when it was ready. I found an appealing chair by a window and tried to focus on the world around me, rather than dealing with my surfacing emotions.

  The tea was delivered quickly and smelled intoxicating. I started with small sips, allowing the heat of the tea to warm the back of my throat. It tasted amazing.

  I thought about calling Gregory to let him know how I was doing. I picked up the phone and dialed. As soon as his number began to ring on my end, a phone in the coffee shop began to ring, almost in sync. How odd. After a couple of rings, it went to voicemail.

  My message was brief. “Hi Gregory, it’s Jordan. Sorry I missed your call, earlier. I overslept and woke up when my aunt and uncle arrived. I did get some rest, but still feel so tired and lost. Long story, but will talk with you soon. Bye for now.”

  It wasn’t until my phone rang that I realized how much time had passed and the patrons had thinned out.

  “Are you okay, Jordan? You have been gone for several hours.” Mom sounded a little panicked.

  “I’m fine. I am at the coffee shop, downtown. I will head back, shortly.”

  “Do you want one of us to come and pick you up?”

  “No, I would rather walk. It keeps my mind off of things. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

  She spoke softly and with great insight. “We each have our own ways of dealing with life. No two people handle the same set of circumstances in the same way. Neither you nor I are alone in this. Eventually we will need to have a good cry and get it out of our systems. It’s ok to do that.”

  I knew her words were true, but I could not let my guard down and allow the sorrow to take me. Not yet. “Thanks for understanding. I promise I will try to be there for you.”

  “Don’t worry about anything, Jordan. It will be tough, but we will get through this, together. That’s what families do. Be careful walking back.”

  “I will. See you soon, Mom. Love you!”

  “I love you
too. Bye.”

  I sat there reflecting on my mother’s words, knowing eventually I would have to face the loss in my heart and allow myself to hurt.

  I finally got up and went to the counter to pay my bill. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing ma’am.”

  “But I had two, medium, hot herbal teas and haven’t paid, yet.”

  “I know ma’am. But, your bill has been taken care of. In fact, if you would like another couple of teas, we can fix them for you.”

  “Who did this? Please point them out to me.” I insisted.

  His response was quick. “I’m sorry ma’am. But, the young gentleman who took care of your bill left about ten minutes ago.”

  “Did he give his name or reason why he was paying for me? I don’t want to be indebted to anyone,”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but he only made sure your bill was paid and left.”

  “Can you tell me, at least, what he looked like?” Wondering if it was anyone I knew.

  He shook his head. “We have so many people come in and out of here, that I don’t really pay attention to what the customers look like. I wish I could help you.”

  “That’s fine. I appreciate your assistance. I think I will take another tea to go and let me give you a nice tip for your help.”

  “I will get that tea right out to you and no tip is necessary ma’am. He already took care of that, too.” He smiled.

  As soon as I had my tea in hand, I headed back to the house. I was very appreciative of the mystery man for buying me tea, but now felt indebted to a stranger, which left me feeling uneasy. I tried to alleviate the anxiety by promising to pay it forward for someone else.

  I took my time walking back, enjoying the charm of the buildings, dating back to late 19th Century. The sun was beginning to set along the horizon, highlighting the beauty of the architecture with its rays.

  Mom gave me a huge hug as soon as I walked through the door. “Feeling better?”

  “A little bit. I know it will hit me, eventually, and I know I keep fighting it; but I’m just not ready to deal with everything, yet.” My voice cracked.

  “I know, dear. I have had a few cries, but the big one hasn’t hit, yet. I am just thankful I have all of you here with me. It means a lot.” Her voice was shaky.

  Quick to change the subject, she asked, “Did you go anywhere besides the coffee shop?”

  I briefly described window shopping, the bookstore and the coffee shop, including the kind gesture someone had made to pay my bill.

  “What’s that?” Mom quickly asked with curiosity.

  “I know. I asked who did it, but he had already left the shop. I couldn’t even get a description of what he looked like or why he took care of the payment. I’m appreciative, but feel uncomfortable, now.”

  “You are definitely your father’s daughter. He didn’t like anyone taking care of anything for him, either. There may be a variety of reasons why this person did it. Just be thankful.”

  I was flattered being compared to Dad, but needed to change topics. “Did we get more flowers?” I wondered looking around the room.

  “Yes, we got one from the nurses in the hospital and the other is a plant from your friend. Richard.”

  I was stunned for a moment, “Richard sent something? I haven’t heard from him in years. The last time I talked with him was about four years ago, when we graduated high school. How did he even know?”

  “I guess you are forgetting his uncle still lives in Clewiston. He probably passed the message on to Richard.”

  I shook my head in amazement. “I had forgotten that he still had family there.”

  My inquisitiveness got the better of me and I decided to take a peek at the card. It read,

  I was thankful for Richard remembering us, but at the same time was furious that he had not bothered to call or write for the past four years. I know we had our own lives to lead, but best friends should keep in touch.

  I walked into my room, turned on the bedside light and curled up into a tight ball on the bed. My emotions were on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall over at any moment. I could feel the edges of a downward spiral and tried to fight off the feelings of grief, using anger as a means to keep my emotions grounded. I detested this sensation.

  There was a knock at my door. “Come in.”

  Mom opened the door and saw me still curled up tight. I could see the sadness in her eyes, as she crossed the room to me. She sat on the bed and gently stroked my back “If going out to eat is too much for you to handle, we can either stay in or order in.”

  “That’s not the problem, Mom. I’m just angry at everything, at myself for not being able to handle things, for not being there for you, for not taking charge and dealing with everything.”

  “No one expects either of us to be made of steel right now. We are both hurting, feeling the loss in different ways. You are doing just fine, Jordan, it’s because of you that I have made it this far. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through this whole ordeal, especially this past week, without you. I could not handle all the phone calls to the family, giving them the updates and telling them how things ended.”

  I sat up and gave her a big hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “How about this; you stay here and rest while we go out and grab a bite? Would you like us to bring you back anything?”

  “I like that idea. I might be able to eat later, something light. Please let Aunt Melinda and Uncle Tom know that I am sorry for being distant. I will try to do better.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jordan. They understand what you are going through.” She gave me a pat on the back. “We will leave in a few minutes.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I curled back onto my side, drawing up into a ball, again.

  I heard the door close and a car start in the driveway, then pull away.

  My heart suddenly felt empty, as though a hole had been punched through it and all feeling and emotion had seeped out, leaving nothing behind. This feeling scared me, so I walked around the house, trying to find something to do. When I entered the living room, I caught site of the piano. Dad loved the piano.

  I took six years of piano lessons as a child. Dad was pleased that I enjoyed the classical artists. He never got tired of me playing Beethoven’s Fur Elise and a cute little number by Frank Mills, The Music Box Dancer.

  I sat down at the piano and began to play. Before I knew it, an hour had passed and my eyes were starting to ache from the crying that started to emerge. I walked back into my bedroom in time to hear the phone ring. I rushed to see who was calling, thinking it might be my mother, but to my surprise, it was Gregory.

  “Hi, Gregory,” I said, sniffing back some tears.

  “Sweetheart, are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying.” His voice was so soft and filled with concern.

  I tried to respond, but only a muffled sob escaped.

  “I listened to your message and waited for you to call. When you didn’t, I got worried. Am I calling at a bad time?”

  “No, you’re fine. I’m just having trouble dealing with my emotions. I just feel so empty.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go through this. If it helps, I understand the emptiness your feeling.”

  “I wish you would have told me about your grandmother when we first started talking.” At that moment I had a flashback to a dream I had, prior to meeting Gregory, online. I gasped aloud.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, worriedly.

  “Nothing. You just reminded me of an unusual dream I had a few months back.”

  “What was it about?”

  “Prior to us meeting online, I dreamt I was walking through the park and saw this young guy sitting on one of the benches, beneath an old oak tree, not far from the water. He had his face in his hands, quietly sobbing. I approached him and touched his shoulder asking, ‘Are you all right?’”

  Gregory inhaled deeply with a gasp. I continued. “He responded by shaking his head back and forth. I di
dn’t understand what was wrong, but when both my hands touched his back, I felt his pain. The same pain I’m feeling now—like he had lost someone close to him. I felt compelled to give him a reassuring squeeze and whispered…”

  Gregory finished my sentence for me. “’Everything will be just fine. You may feel the pain right now, but it will lessen in time and be replaced by wonderful memories. We never have to say goodbye, only until we meet again’.”

  “How did you? How could you know? I’ve never told anyone that dream.” I stammered, feeling a chill and my heart beginning to race.

  “I can’t explain. Only that it was My dream. Well, more like a nightmare I couldn’t escape from, until I heard the sweet voice of a young lady and her gentle touch across my back, expressing care and concern. I could feel the love in her heart, as it captured mine.”

  There was quiet on both ends of the phone line and then in unison we asked, “You don’t think we could have…?”

  Gregory forced a laugh. “Shared the same dream?” He, like me, must have thought it was impossible. “Why don’t we switch to another subject? How did you and your mom sleep last night?”

  “Mom fell asleep in the recliner, watching television, while I was on the phone with you. I was afraid to sleep, fearing I would encounter unpleasant dreams. But, exhaustion won out and I fell asleep on the couch beside her.

  “At first, my fear came true, but then I saw my father and was comforted. I slept so soundly that I almost fell off the sofa when my Aunt and Uncle arrived.”

  “So, what time did you get up, then?”

  “I think it was around 1:00 in the afternoon. I’m not certain; time seems to get away from me.”

  “So, how was your day?”

  “I worried about you last night, so I didn’t sleep well. I ended up staying in bed dozing on and off until a little before 1:00, too, which is rare for me. You would not believe how I woke up.” He started laughing.