One More Day

I was eighty-three.

I was old, crippled, tired.

My limbs were weak, my head was foggy. I couldn’t remember much.

Then, I woke up.

“Mama! Mama!” When I force my eyes open, the world is bright and colored. No longer foggy or shaded. I look down at the two little girls crawling up onto my bed, their little limbs struggling to get up.

I was tired, but my limbs held energy, the willingness to move. I’ve never felt so unburdened. I sit up in the soft sheets, the cotton cloth falling off of my chest and settling onto my hips. I look down. My skin is pale but healthy, and my stomach is stretched. I used to be ashamed of it. But why? Why should I be ashamed of something that brought such light to this world?

A heavy weight jumps onto my lap, her little arms grabbing the sheets to pull herself up. Her blonde hair spills over my legs. I put my hands on her waist and set her back down. She giggles, then reaches up and tugs on my hair. This innocence is pure. I would’ve grumbled, demanding that she stop, but I can’t find that grudge anymore. I laugh instead.

Marly. My firstborn daughter, only six years old now. I look down beside me at the smaller one, who is wailing. She’s still too little to get up here on her own. I carefully reach down and grab her arm. I help her up, and she ends up beside Marly on my lap. Talo, now only four years old.

Talo pushes Marly aside as she grabs my face firmly. I chuckle at her energy.

Marly stands on my lap, grabs the back of my scalp and pulls it towards her, forcing my chin to my chest. They’ve both been curious beyond the point of return. “Daddy said that you have eyes on the back of your head!” Marly yells, searching through the hair.

“She does, you just can’t find them. I should know.” The voice of silk and gold and memories and love. Big, veiny hands go to Marly’s waist, and she’s pulled away. I look up as he places her on his hip, his eyes gentle and loving. My husband. He’s wearing a dress shirt and jeans. He must be going to work today. His hair is a rich brown, though it is thinning. His face is tired, but willing.

He looks down at me, then leans closer and pecks a kiss onto my lips. It’s soft and gentle, loving with care. “Good morning, Tash.” He whispers, staying close. I would’ve looked over these moments, cast them aside like every other morning I glazed over. A smile grows on my face, lighting all of it.

Marly and Talo file out eventually, running off with laughs. I go to my familiar restroom, in the house we designed. I brush through my blonde hair, watching it fall long and thick over my back. It’s so much longer than I remember. The waves catch on my brush, but I don’t wrestle it through, I work it through. There is no rush. Why would I ever rush these moments?

Carter enters a moment later, setting a cup of steaming coffee on my counter. I would’ve murmured a thank you, then continued to get ready, letting it run cold. But instead I finish my hair and look at my young face in the mirror as I drink the perfectly brewed coffee. He knew how to make it perfect. He wrestles with a tie as I drink. I turn and watch him with a small smirk.

He looks up at my expression with a grumble. “I’m already running late, Tashandra, I can’t have you laughing at me.”

I set my cup down and walk over, taking the tie in my hands. I do it well, my hands following that similar rhythm. I finish, setting it down on his chest with a gentle hand. I look up to his eyes, which are locked on mine. “You seem happier today.”

I think for a moment. Was I really that much of a snob when I was younger? I guess it made sense. “I-I guess I’m just in a good mood.”

He smiles. “I like it.” He brushes my hair behind my ear. He then walks around me and grabs his wallet, his keys, then his satchel. He leaves the restroom, calling for the girls to get ready to leave.

I slowly follow, looking to our home. Mild colors, messy rooms, odd smells. Not perfect, but it will always be home. I go to the kitchen, where Marly and Talo grab their all-too-large backpacks and their My Little Pony water bottles. They look over at me, then run over.

I kneel down, embracing them both at the same time. I don’t think I hugged them enough. “I love you, and I’ll see you later.”

They hug me back, then pull away and rush towards the door. “Bye mama! Love you!”

I wave goodbye, then I walk towards the door, where Carter is holding it open. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. He kisses me back with a smile. He pulls back to whisper, “You be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, Carter.” I don’t think I said that enough.

I stand at the door and watch them leave with a wave. Then my vision goes black.

I woke up under the altar. I blink once, then find Carter’s young face smiling at me. He looked nice in his black and light green suit. His hair was neatly combed, moved to the side towards his ear. I subtly looked down at myself. My tight white dress that made me look so much smaller. I remember this day vividly, but only the moments that really mattered.

“...Now, you may kiss the bride.” In my mental turmoil, I only remember those words slipping from the preacher's mouth.

Carter lifts the veil, revealing me completely to him. He smiles, and one of his hands slips around to my jaw, and the other goes to my waist. He closes the space and our families clap, and the music kicks up proudly.

He pulls back with a smile. “I hope you know I’ll never regret this. I love you.” It all goes black.

“Who are you!?” The man stands in front of me, a towel loosely around his waist. He clutches the hem of it, curling in on himself to protect his skin from my eyes.

“Who are you?” I fire back.

“H-have you seen Jeramey?” He says, clutching the towel tighter.

“Who?”

“Ugh!” He yells in frustration. “Short, black-haired kid!”

“Oh, Jeramey Lane?”

He nods quickly.

I point down the hallway.

“Oh thank the lord.”

“Did he… steal your clothes?”

He huffs with a nod. I laugh. College boys were incredibly stupid when they wished to be. “T-thanks. Uh, y-your name?”

I smile, “Tashanra.”

He smiles back, cheeks still flamed from the whole experience, “I’m Carter.” He then runs off with a slight wave.

I couldn’t hear their words. I could only hear the sound of the car crashing. The sound of their screams.

“We gather here today to honor my brother and my two nieces. They died on April sixth in a car crash. And to my sister-in-law, I’m sorry. You lost a great man, you lost your family. May God guide you in the rest of your life. We love you, Tashandra.”

I woke up, tears in my eyes at the memory. Well, memories. I was given another day. And all of me wished I could have a thousand more to relive every day of my life up to that point. Up to the point my life was gone. If everyday ended in their death, I would cherish every hug, every kiss, every word.

I didn’t say goodbye that day. But I had thousands of times before. Thousands of words with no cherish.

I’m sorry my darlings.

I’ll see you again.