For Sara

A dull sound is all I know. It pulses in a steady rhythm… thump, thump… thump, thump… thump, thump… Sometimes it beats faster, but usually it stays slow and consistent. Wherever I am, it’s warm and the sound is comforting. Sometimes I hear another sound. A voice. It’s muffled, but I know it belongs to wherever I am and I like to listen to it.

I have no concept of time or self, but a moment comes when I emerge from my warm, comfortable home and into light. I don’t like it. A new sound fills my ears: crying. I think the sound is coming from me, but I’m not entirely sure. I feel cold. Large hands maneuver me around until I’m laying on something warm. I continue to cry as I hear another sound beneath me. The same beating sound I could hear moments ago… thump, thump.

“Hello, sweet girl.” Says a soft voice in my ear. I stop crying to listen more closely.

“Hello, sweet girl.” It’s says again. The voice is familiar and I feel safe. I don’t know the meaning of anything yet, but if I could describe this voice I would call it ‘mother’ or ‘home.’ Perhaps they are one and the same.

I am one month old now. The voice and sound I had known before are still my whole world, but my world has also grown. There’s another voice and being I see often. A man. He is gentle and big and his voice is much deeper than the first voice. But whenever he talks to me or holds me, I feel safe. Unless I am hungry. Then, I cry until I go back to mother.

I am six months old now. My world is immeasurably bigger than before. They call me Elizabeth. I have learned that ‘Mama’ is the voice I knew first. She is food and comfort. ‘Dada’ is the second. He is playtime and giggles. And I am a human, just like them. They tell me about my tummy and my legs and my arms. They laugh when I make noises and I laugh when they kiss my cheeks. I am starting to recognize other people and voices, but Mama and Dada are my favorite. I can sit up and look around and I try to put everything within arms reach into my mouth to figure out what it is.

I am a year old now. Today is my birthday and everyone I know came to my party. I got to eat cake for the first time! Everyone sang to me and gathered around and took a bunch of pictures as I ate it. I don’t know why they thought it was so funny, but they did and now I want more. I can walk and say a few words like “mama, dada, more, go, and kitty.” Mama follows me around when I walk, making sure I don’t bump into things or fall over. She has started to put little ponytails in my hair. I can’t decide if I like it or not, but whenever she does, dada and her smile a lot when they look at me, so it must not be that bad.

I am two years old now. I can run and talk and jump and spin and eat and run some more and throw things and scream when I don’t want to do something and laugh at everything my daddy does and hug mommy and chase our kitty and take bubble baths and eventually sleep. Even though I don’t want to sleep, I still sleep. Mommy stays with me during the day and we go do lots of fun things. We go to the zoo and the park and meet friends to play. Mommy sings to me and snuggles me and I usually fall asleep with my head on her chest.

I am two and a half years old now. Daddy had to take mommy to a place called hospital. Pa and Grandma came over to our house to stay with me. Daddy hugged me real tight, kissed my forehead, and said he would see me later. That night, I got to go to the hospital and see mommy. She was sleeping. The hospital smelled funny and there was this machine hooked up to mommy that made lots of noise. I didn’t like it, but I cuddled with mommy anyway. Eventually I fell asleep and woke up to mommy kissing my forehead.

“I love you, sweet girl.” She whispered. I smiled, patted her cheek, and then fell back to sleep, listening to her heartbeat.

It’s been a few days and a lot of people have been coming to my house. All of my aunts and uncles and my grandpas and grandmas and friends of mommy and daddy’s. They all seem sad. They all give me big hugs and some even bring me presents. I don’t think it’s my birthday, but I like them just the same. Daddy has been singing me songs and reading me books to bed. I miss mommy. Daddy says she is not coming home. I ask him why and he says she has gone to a place called ‘heaven.’ I don’t know where heaven is, but I wish we could drive there to go see her. Daddy just says, “Someday.” whenever I say we should do that.

I am three years old now. I can sing the alphabet and count to twenty and know all of my shapes and colors. I even potty in the big potty and wear big girl undies. Daddy says I’m smart and will start preschool soon. I am excited to start school! During the day, I play with grandma. I love grandma. She makes yummy treats and on warm days, we walk to the park to play and have a picnic. We keep a big picture of mommy in our living room. Sometimes I look at it and, I don’t know why, but it makes my chest ache. Daddy has been practicing braiding my hair and is getting better at it. At night, he still sings me songs and reads me books and when I wake up from a bad dream, he always let’s me sleep in his bed.

I am five years old now. I’m in kindergarten! I have the nicest teacher, Miss Addy, and I have so many friends. Dean and Emma are my best friends. We always play tag together and next week, Emma and I are going to have our first sleepover! We plan to watch movies and eat popcorn and build a fort. Emma’s mom said she would help us paint our nails and make our hair fancy, too, if we wanted. I said that would be so fun since my daddy sometimes forgets to do those things. She smiled, kind of sadly when I said that, but then said she had all the colors of the rainbow for nail polish and Emma and I started to debate what colors we would choose. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I have dance practice. Grandma or Pa usually take me and every Saturday me and daddy go do something special. Last Saturday, we went to the Renaissance Faire and he told me it was one of mommy’s favorite things to do. I asked if we could go every year. He said yes!

I am seven years old now. Daddy met a nice lady named Sheryl. I like her! He says she will be around a lot and I’m fine with that. She came with daddy to my dance recital and she brought me a bouquet of flowers. They’re beautiful and I love them!

I am ten years old now. Sheryl and dad got married last year and the three of us took a trip to Hawaii. I got to swim with dolphins! The other day, I accidentally called Sheryl ‘mom.’ She teared up when I did. I think she loved it, but I can’t decide how I feel. My mom’s picture still hangs in our living room, but next to it are many others with me and dad and Sheryl and those pictures seem more real to me. Whenever I ask dad about mom he always answers. Like her favorite color was blue. And her favorite flower was a sunflower. But now he’s starting to say things like, “I don’t remember.” And that makes me sad and I can tell he feels guilty. So, I’ll stop asking.

I am fourteen years old now. I’m a freshman in high school. I tried out and made the school dance team! Emma is still my best friend and also on the dance team. Dean is still my friend too. Though, I think I’m starting to develop feelings for him. Whenever we hang out I get butterflies in my stomach and, the other day, he grabbed my hand and I felt tingly all over.

I am sixteen years old now. I just got my driver’s license and am on my way to pick up Dean and Emma to go to a movie. Dean and I kissed last week, but we’re not officially dating yet. Dad and Sheryl like him, but dad tells me I’m too young to date. Sheryl rolls her eyes when he says this and that makes me laugh. I’ve been looking into college applications and scholarships and making sure my grades are good enough to get into a decent place. I think I want to study dance, but I don’t really know.

I am eighteen years old now. Emma and I got into the same college and are going to be roommates! Dean and I broke up, but we’re still friends. I think I’m going to study nursing instead of dance. I’ve been doing a little research on what happened to my mom and the medical field is fascinating. I want to help people in pain and know what to do in cases of emergency. Every year, dad, Sheryl and I still go to the Renaissance Faire. This year we decided to dress up and it was a blast! We were all pirates and I bought a small sword from one of the vendors.

I am twenty two years old now. And just graduated college! My dad and Sheryl came to the ceremony and afterwards we met up with my grandparents and Emma and her parents. After dinner, Emma and I joined some friends on a party bus. We drank some horrible, strong drinks and then got our noses pierced. Luckily, because of the alcohol, it didn’t hurt at all.

I am twenty three years old now. I met a boy named Fletcher at work. I’m working night shift at the hospital in town as a Registered Nurse and he’s an X-Ray tech. He’s funny and handsome and really smart. Last night he asked me if I’d want to get breakfast after work. I said yes and we had the best time. He’s really into disc golfing and I told him I’d never been. We made plans to go this weekend.

I am twenty six years old now. It’s my wedding day. It feels like just yesterday I was going to breakfast for the first time with Fletcher and, now, here we are. I’m wearing my mom’s wedding dress. When my dad saw me, he burst into tears. I had to try really hard not to cry too hard and mess up my makeup. Him and Sheryl walked me down the aisle and it was the most magical day. Fletcher gave me the sweetest kiss and hasn’t let go of my hand all night. I’m giddy with happiness. Tomorrow, we leave for our honeymoon in Colorado. We’re going to a concert at Red Rocks and then going to do lots of hiking.

I am twenty eight years old now. Fletcher and I just left the doctors office and I’m clutching an ultrasound picture. The tiny baby inside me looks like a gummy bear. Fletcher cried when he saw our Little Bear and heard the heartbeat. We’re heading over to my dad’s house for dinner and are going to tell him and Sheryl the news.

I am twenty nine years old now. For the first time in a long time, I truly miss my mom. I’m sitting in our son’s nursery, feeling terrified and anxious and excited and literally every feeling. I have so many questions. I know I could ask Emma (who just had a baby last year) or some of my other friends, or even Sheryl. But… I don’t know… it’s just not the same. I don’t really remember my mom at all, but dad still has her picture in his living room and I printed a copy of it and have it in ours as well. My son, Atlas, is in my arms. It’s our first night home from the hospital. His tiny hand is wrapped around my finger. I already love him more than anything.

I am thirty three years old now. I am officially older than my mom ever was and that seems strange. I blinked and now I have two toddlers. Our house is filled with noise and no matter how many times I pick up, toys are still everywhere. It’s exhausting, but amazing and I embrace the snuggles and crazy routines. I love watching Atlas and his little sister, Lucile, explore and learn their limits. They are my whole world.

I am thirty five years old now. Atlas is in kindergarten and Lucile is in preschool. The toddler years were amazing and hilarious and challenging and now I can’t believe they’re ending. I sense a shift happening as the kids are getting older. They’re not quite big kids, but not little toddlers anymore. It’s wonderful, but it also breaks my heart a little.

I am forty three years old now. Time has gone by ridiculously fast and I wish it wouldn’t. I started coaching the high school dance team. My kids are playing football and softball and dance and karate and both are excelling in school. Atlas starts high school next year and when I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize the middle-aged woman staring back at me. Lucile is going through a phase of disagreeing with everything Fletcher and I tell her, and it’s driving me bonkers. I don’t remember being that rebellious, but when I asked my dad, he said it’s a rite of passage that every parent goes through.

I am fifty years old now. Fletcher and I are empty nesters. We keep joking that we don’t know what to do with all our free time after work. Fletcher asked me to go disc golfing with him and we both laughed, but then I agreed to go. I might not disc golf, but I’ll tag along and walk with him. That sounds nice. I think I’ll start reading again.

I am sixty years old now. My dad is getting very old. We moved him into an assisted living apartment last week. Sheryl is able to stay with him, but she’s also getting old and they both need help. Fletcher and I are becoming grandparents! Atlas and his wife are due in just a couple of months. Luckily, I just retired so, I’m looking forward to spending all my free time and money on this little princess. They told me they’re going to name her Sara. After my mother. I cried and Fletcher squeezed my hand.

I am seventy five years old now. My bones and body are tired. I can tell I’m slowing down. We have a total of five grandchildren so far and I love them all beyond measure. Whenever they come over, they tell the funniest stories and have the most energy. The house comes alive when they’re here and when they go home, it’s too quiet. Fletcher and I have started playing card games to keep our minds fresh. However, the other night we had to stop before either of us had won because we were so tired.

I am eighty years old now. I miss my kids. I miss my dad and Sheryl. I miss my grandkids. My kids and grandkids are healthy and thriving, but they’re all grown and busy raising their own families. Atlas and Lucile make a point to call at least once a week and I’m very grateful. When I dream, I dream of when my kids were tiny and I was young and fit and could run around with them. It’s amazing how I took it all for granted at the time. Fletcher and I always take a walk around the block after dinner and he always holds my hand. It takes us twenty minutes just to get around that one block, but we aren’t in any hurry.

I am eighty nine years old now. I have two children, six grandchildren, and three great great grandchildren. My time has come to say goodbye to this world. I close my eyes knowing I lived a full life. My Fletcher holds my hand and I cling to it’s warmth. My heart fills with joy, not sorrow, as I say goodbye. My whole family has come to see me off. I can’t speak or move, but they all tell me how much they love me and that is enough.

Thump, thump… Thump, thump… thump… thump… thump…

When I open my eyes I’m surrounded by light. A group of people stand before me, all of them smiling. My dad, Sheryl, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, Emma… but my eyes focus on a young woman. I haven’t seen her for over eighty years, but I know her instantly. I looked at her picture a million times. She beams at me with tears in her eyes and opens her arms. Slowly, I walk toward her. I wrap my arms around her and lay my head to her chest.

“Hello, sweet girl.” She says.

And I am home.