The Love of Time

As a woman of twenty-three, I find life is too full and the days are too short for family condolences or family memories. This is a life of lust. A life of self-discipline. You can’t just simply ignore the fact that life is full of hatred and sorrow and people are ‘busy busy busy’ as my aunt Stacy says. There is simply too much to do around my little apartment that there is no room for those small things any more.

My mother called me yesterday saying how much she missed me and asking me if this weekend I would come over for her birthday, just so we could talk and make up for lost time. “Two years have gone by and I haven’t seen you since you left for college. It would be good to see you again. I miss you, my daughter.”

But those were only words trying to get me away from my duties and my work. I have the apartment to take care of, my dogs’ mouths to feed, my work at the office, and I have to answer every meeting my friends from college make at every coffee shop all around New York. As I said, there is no time for simple talk with my mother. And how can she talk calmly after what happened?

There is the reality that I haven’t seen my brothers, or any of my family for that matter since I left. Christmases were always quite dull around my apartment, with only my dogs to care for and give gifts to. One small little ornament hung in the middle of my fake pine tree. Since there was no room to put any of my ornaments that I got from mother every single year in my moving truck, my decor for the Christmas tree had dwindled. And I hadn’t made a Christmas to collect any new ones.

But my dogs keep me company on those holidays when even your friends leave you alone, because they have ‘family to go to’ as they always say. Thanksgiving is coming up and it’s almost scary to think how quickly the years go by. How fast they are going now, now that I am in my twenties!

Anyway, I’m going to send my mom a gift for her birthday, just so she has a little surprise from me waiting on her doorstep. I only wish she could understand how I feel after the accident. Maybe then, she wouldn’t push me so hard.

The next week I walked into the office, my binders in hand and knocked on the door of my boss's lab.

“Come in.”

I pushed open the door and greeted my old mentor with a smile. He motioned for me to sit in the chair directly facing his desk. Once I did, he said, “Well, what is it?”

Softly, I cleared my throat and said matter-of-factly, “Mr Rob, I would like your notifications on what is to proceed on the coming skyscraper model.”

Mr Rob sighed, picked up a few stacks of papers, and set them aside.

“If there is a problem, I would like the matter to be reported directly to me. I can handle any object that might get in the way of our progress.”

“I know you can,” Mr Rob nodded. He looked up at me with almost a sympathetic face. “But Lowes, don’t you think you're pushing yourself too hard? You already have a massive production that needs to be established before the year is over and you want to take on another one? People have to live and breathe sometime, Lowes. They can’t just work all the time. Have you ever taken the time to breathe?”

I stared at him like he had just fired me right then and there. What did he mean I was doing too much? Yes I was busy all day every single day, but I could handle it. “Mr Rob, I think you misunderstand me. I can do the work, and I’m willing to work as hard as anyone in this business. Just give me the job and I can show you I can make it work.”

Mr Rob folded his weathered hands on the desk. “Lowes, that's not what I mean. You are the one who is misunderstanding. No one in this business works as hard as you do. And I am proud of you for that. But, there comes a time when you have to set things aside, take a break from ‘too much,’ and actually live. My other workers have family and they make sure they set time to make memories as well. In all of the years you’ve worked for me, I have never heard you say once that you want time off to see your family. Even on the holidays!”

My whole mind was a jumble of thoughts; angry thoughts. He had no business running my life. He didn’t know anything about it.

“I know,” I shook my head. “But I don’t care for time off. There is nothing to go back to anyway. Especially after what happened.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and bit my lip as I bowed my head, hoping Mr Rob hadn’t noticed.

“I see. Well, I am your boss, aren’t I?”

I nodded.

“And you would do anything I say?”

I nodded again.

“Then I order you to go visit your family this Thanksgiving or you're fired.”

“What?!” I jumped up from my chair, my heart cantering inside my chest.

“I’ve given you the order, Miss Lowes. Now go see your family.” He waved his hand in calm dismissal. “It will be good for you.”

It would be good for me? This was one thing in my life that would not be good for me. But what could I do? If I refused, I would get fired. So with a stiff back, I walked out of the office to go pack my bags.

***

The drive from New York to Pennsylvania was tough, especially when my whole being would rather have stayed locked up in my cosy apartment. I left my dogs with a babysitter I trusted and departed from them with kisses on their fuzzy little foreheads. It was always hard to leave them, since they were the only family I knew anymore.

I didn’t warn mother I was coming, and I hoped it wouldn’t come as too big of a surprise to her. How old was she now? Forty seven? One thing I did remember was that she always decorated her house for the holidays and when I pulled up my car in the long drive of their small farm house out in the country, my decorating memories came to mind.

Pumpkins sat on the front porch and golden leaf tapestries and scarecrow dolls hung on the porch railing. A few cars were already parked in the drive, so I assumed some of my brothers were here as well. Mother does love her holidays. I thought as I stepped out of the car and stretched my sleepy legs.

“Little sis? Is that you, Lowes?”

I turned to see a young man with a recognizable quirky smile and obnoxious bright red hair. Nodding in greeting I held out my hand, “Yes it’s me, Adrain. I came to visit for…Thanksgiving.”

Adrain ignored my hand and pulled me into an embrace so fast that I didn’t have time to stop him. “Gosh I’ve missed you! How long has it been? Two years? How are you?”

“I’m fine, now let me go.” I pulled out of his arms and pointed to the trunk of my car. “Can you give me a hand with my luggage?”

“Sure thing,” Adrian nodded and hurriedly opened the trunk top, grabbing my bags as fast as he could. Well his giddy boyishness hasn’t changed. Rolling my eyes, I walked up to the porch and knocked on the front door.

I wasn’t surprised when my mother was the one to open it.

The startle of her change was so great I backed up a step. My mother, my mother, had white hair! Wrinkles were starting to form on her face and she looked a little grave. But that was only for a moment. Her eyes widened and a broad smile cornered her lips when she saw me.

“Lowes! You’ve come to visit! How nice! Come, come sit.” She gestured me inside and led me to the small living room I remembered since I was a kid. It hadn’t changed since then. One small couch that had never been big enough for all of us and two lounge chairs set on opposite sides of it.

“Now sit down. We have much catching up to do.” Mother took a seat on the couch and patted a spot next to her.

It surprised me that she wasn’t at all mad at the way I had rejected coming to her birthday. Maybe it hadn’t been that big of a deal after all. Once I sat down, Adrian banged open the door; all of my suitcases in hand. His smile was so big it reached from ear to ear. “She’s back.”

Mother nodded, “Yes she is and now if you could leave us alone for a few minutes that would be helpful.”

Adrian nodded as if he understood and as he left the room, mother added, “Tell your brother that the turkey is ready to be stuffed!”

Folding her hands in her lap, she smiled at me sweetly. “Now, tell me about yourself. What has been going on lately?”

I bit my lip uncomfortably and murmured, “Nothing much. Just my work.”

“What about this job I’ve heard about? Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you say you have dogs? How are-”

“Mother!”

Mother jolted in shock from my outburst. I shook my head and rubbed my burning face with a sweaty hand. “I’m sorry. I just can’t talk when what happened is hanging over us like a cloud. How can you talk to me in such a way after that?”

Mother was silent for a few seconds before she replied, “Lowes, after the accident and when your father was on his death bed, I still loved you. Now, even though I haven’t seen you in two years, I love you. My love is not going to disappear. Do you understand?”

“No.” Bitter tears burned my eyes as the memory of swerving off the icy road and into the deep snowy ditch–my father screaming–filled my mind. I held my head high fighting to swallow the sob in my throat. “I killed him, mother! It was my fault he died! Don’t you remember that?”

“No, no I don’t remember that.” Mother shook her head seriously. “All I remember was it being an accident. Nothing more than an accident. Lowes, accidents do happen.”

I nodded, forcing the truth of these words into my sore heart. But I didn’t feel like continuing the conversation. I was tired from the long trip and wanted to escape to the safety of my old bedroom. “May I go? I want to un-pack my things before everyone gets here.”

Mother nodded, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Without another word I hurried to my room, shooing Adrain out and locking myself in my pink walled room; the spirit of my girlish self dancing in circles on the floor, her laughter an echo I could no longer catch.

***

I tried to ignore the pictures that were hung up on the walls as I un-packed. Too many memories too quickly. So I quickly dressed into one of my finest dresses and after a while to collect myself, I made my way downstairs.

All of our family members had arrived and most of them gave me fair hellos or small smiles. My little brother Alex whooped when he saw me, ramming into me with a hug. There was as much chaos in the little house than I remembered and plates of food were passed around the large table. After the oldies got their share, they escaped to the living room since the table was left for the kids.

There was something different about everyone. They all talked with merriment and every conversation was about something they had done in the past. And several others agreed to the matter as if they had all been there. I was the only person standing alone in the living room corner, trying to make sense of all the chattering.

They laughed together, people hugged one another. Everything they did looked warm and family-like. Suddenly I understood. They all knew each other. They all had relationships that had grown stronger over the years by being with each other all the time. And where was I in all of this?

Silently, I escaped to my room, raw emotions welling up in my chest. My eyes trailed to the pictures I had hung on my pink walls and I found myself drawing closer. There was a picture of me and my family holding hands on a sunset walk. Another one was my mother; holding me tight in her arms as we sat on the porch and smiled into the camera. And yet another one of me and my father holding up fish by a string at a pond.

That’s what I had been missing all along. The will to make more memories. My actions were keeping me away from that possibility. I was afraid of not being loved because of what had happened to my father. What I had done to my father. But making relationships was the very core of my healing. And I had ignored it?

“Lowes? Are you alright?” Mother said tentatively, stepping into my room with worry. “Alex told me he saw you come up here looking a bit tired.”

I turned to her, my eyes glistening with tears. She looked so loving and motherly. How had I stayed away from her all these years?

“Mother, I now see that I was wrong…about everything. I shouldn't have stayed away from you. I was afraid that you wouldn’t be the same after the accident, but now I understand that a love from a mother is genuine and can never disappear. I’m so sorry.”

I pulled her into an embrace and felt the motherly love and care seep from her arms.

“I love you, my daughter.”

“I love you too, mother.” From now on, things will be different. Memories will be made.

And memories were made. Whenever my mother called me I raced to the phone and made sure I got a full hour and a half of chatting with her. We talked about things that bothered us or things we were excited for. Sometimes Alex’s voice would pop up out of nowhere and ask me how I was, what I was building and if he could come and help me with it sometime. Of course there was no possible way he could help me with the sci-scraper physically, but I made sure to send some pictures of the blue prints and hear his approval.

Adrian would visit me and marvel at the view of the city. “It’s so big!” Was always his comment. And of course I would visit him as well in his small farm house with the tiny chicken hut in the backyard. Two different places; both filled with love.

And in all of this our relationship with each other grew. We never felt like strangers in each other's presence again. All because I chose to accept the importance of making memories.

***

That Next November

Sitting in my office, I was looking over some important blue-prints of the next apartment we were about to construct, when the telephone rang. I picked it up and was surprised to hear my mother’s voice through the phone. She asked if I would be able to make it to her birthday that coming weekend.

Glancing at my schedule, I winced. Mr Rob came into the room and gave me a knowing look.

“Mr Rob, can you give me-?”

He held up a hand. “No, say no more. You are off the hook. Tell your mother happy birthday for me.”

I nodded, feeling warmth fill my heart. Here I come mother. I thought as I grabbed my jacket and headed out of the office. Never again will I miss one of your holidays. Never again.

The End