Mother's Old Suitcase

“Here you go, honey,” my mother said as she pulled down the attic stairs from the ceiling. “I have your old clothes and your baby blanket stored away in there. It’s pastel pink, but I’m not sure where I placed it. Feel free to help yourself to anything you find. My knees don’t like these rickety stairs, so I'm going to make a pot of ginger tea and settle into a good book. I have molasses cookies that should be finished when you’re done. Please be careful.” I made it to the top of the stairs and sighed, tired and hot from the slow climb. I can't help but run my hands along my belly; it relaxes me. I am in the last two weeks of my pregnancy, and my husband still has not made it home from his deployment. He will be here next week, and so he insisted I stay with my mom so she could be available, just in case.

Looking around the attic, there are a few rows of boxes, neatly stacked and organized. The clothes I found in the boxes were adorable little onesies and baby boots. When I found out that I was expecting a little girl, we were so excited! My mother insisted that I needed to shuffle through the things she’d kept safely away for me. I think to myself, ‘Where is that baby blanket?’ I can't wait to bundle my child in a soft, warm memory of mine. I go to shift the boxes and see the pink blanket folded on top of a small suitcase, hidden all the way in the back, by the wall. 'Success!' I revel to myself. I pick up the blanket and turn to head back, but then I hesitate for a moment. 'The suitcase…maybe there's something else in there?'

I’ve never seen this case before; it must have gotten lost in the back for a long time. I look at the tag on the handle, which has a key hanging from a ribbon beside it. “Property of Lillian Alden,” My mother's maiden name. I sat down and gently slid the case directly in front of me, looking it over. It's light wood, with a tan tweed wool covering that has faded. I gripped the old handle. The brass key looks like it still fits. I turn the key, and the lock pops free. When I open the case, dust fills the air and lingers…it smells of cedar and a floral perfume. The metal hinges are rusted, squeaking loudly as I open them.

Inside, I see a beautiful light-yellow dress with purple and red flowers printed all over. It is a short-sleeved dress with a ruffled skirt that has a lace accent around the neck. Next to the dress was a pair of green suede dancing shoes, heeled, with a collar across the top that clasped in place. Up above the heels was an old Shaw hat box: homemade and stitched with fake pearls around the rim. 'A hat to go with the dress and shoes?' I think excitedly. I opened the box, but there was no hat. Inside was a locket, a journal, and a family photo, long before the silver ever touched my mother's hair. She looks like a teenager, interlocking arms with her two sisters, my mother in the middle, and a sister on each arm. I looked inside the locket, but no picture was inside.

I started to skim through the leather-bound journal, which looked as if my mother had written in it almost daily, stopping a few weeks short of her seventeenth birthday. She wrote about her hopes and dreams, and long-lost friends whose names I'd never heard before. The journal was filled with hilarious adventures and a more spirited side of my mother. I get to the last page, and two torn tickets fall into my lap, with a note folded up around them. I unfold the note, and it says, “Lillian, will you go with me to prom? Johnny Davis.” That was my father’s name. My parents met in high school, and Dad proposed to Mom the day they graduated, as he'd planned to sign up to serve his country. I close the journal and put the items back into the straw box. I reorganized the dress and shoes, then sealed the suitcase up and re-locked it.

I sat quietly for a moment, realizing this suitcase was full of my mother’s childhood. It had all the things she didn’t know she’d lost yet, and all the memories she’d guarded before becoming a wife and mother. I had never known that she wanted to hike the Appalachian Mountains. She had dreamed of exploring the world. She wanted to grow up to be a ballerina for the New York City Ballet. It dawned on me that she had lost so much freedom, time, and potential futures.

“She’s going to need this; she gave up so much for us,” I whisper to myself.

I stood up and carried the small suitcase downstairs. I find my mother sipping tea in the kitchen, next to a plate of cookies. She shifts the glasses off her face as I come in, curious about my haul.

“Look what I found, it was hiding behind some old boxes in the attic. I couldn’t help but open it and read some of the stories in the journal.”

“Oh! I haven’t seen that in so long! Your father had asked me to the prom, and my parents allowed me to take the bus into the city to stay with my aunt, who lived near the church where they were having it. That was our first date! I must have put it away so long ago, forgetting about it. I can't wait to look through it, thank you!”

I set it down on the table in front of her, snagged a cookie, and went to sort the clothes.

In the other room, I could hear my mom laughing so loudly as she read through her journal. I enjoyed hearing all the laughter she had muffled over the years, so she could be quiet and let me sleep. Every so often, I would peek in to see her reminiscing. For several hours, I could smell cedar trees, mixed with a rosy perfume. She looks much younger in the evening light, holding onto her childhood memories; not a day over seventeen. I finished sorting through the baby clothes and went to say goodnight. I find her shuffling through old photo albums with the locket hanging from her neck.

“I'm so glad to see you wearing that again, Mom! I looked inside, but there was no photo. Did you find an old photo of Dad to put in it?”

“On one side. I put a picture of my other first love on the other side,”

“I thought you and Dad were high school sweethearts?”

“We were! Right after high school, we got married.”

I look at her, quizzically.

My mother opens the locket, Dad is on the left, and a tiny baby is on the other side.

“The moment I met you, my entire life changed. You look tired, go rest. I won't be up much longer.”

“I love you, Mom. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”