The Woman in the Park

She smiled at me like she would at any unfamiliar face. A warmth lay within it that defied explanation. The kind of warmth many people search for in vain, even in their own mothers. Fortunately, that wasn't the case for me.

"May I sit down?" I asked. The woman on the park bench looked at me briefly, as though searching for something in my face. An answer to a question she didn't know herself. Then a blissful smile spread across her features.

"Of course, my dear. Of course." She shifted to one side before offering me the space beside her with a trembling hand. Her skin was almost transparent, blue veins pressing through, past age spots and bruises. She wore a blue coat that cascaded down to her knees. Snowflakes drifted softly through the air and settled on her ash-grey shoes. The sun sank toward the horizon, kissing the rolling hills at the edge of town with a scarlet blush. Accompanied by the gentle murmur of the river at our feet.

I pulled my coat tighter, careful not to let my jeans touch the cold bench, and settled down beside her. Again she looked at me as though wondering whether she knew me. As though I were an old friend she hadn't seen in decades. Then she smiled again and buried her trembling hands in her lap.

"What's the matter, my dear?" Her voice carried the practiced tone of a caring mother someone who could summon a gentle calm even in the most difficult moments, so that people would open up. In her eyes lay an unfathomable warmth, within which a brief flash of pain surfaced. The pain of something lost. A levelling pain, deeply human.

"My mother isn't doing very well." I forced a smile, pulled my coat tighter and folded my arms across my chest. It hadn't taken long for the cold to press itself against my skin like a suffocating layer. Something inside me wanted to say more, but I faltered and the words seemed to leave me.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Her voice felt like an embrace. Genuine compassion. "Tell me about her." Her trembling hand floated through the air for a brief moment and came to rest on mine. It was cold, yet radiated a warmth that went beyond measurable temperature. I breathed in deeply. Reached for the strength to open up and feel the feelings I feared for so long. In the treetops, a few birds played, swooping about before settling on a branch. Tiny sparks of sunlight danced on the surface, dappling the slow-moving river.

"She was… is a woman full of life." A smile crept across my face and lingered for a moment before being carried away by the current of the emotions that followed. "She always kept going. No matter what blows fate dealt her, she always found the strength to smile and the drive to carry on. I admire her for that."

Images of a woman flickered before my eyes like flashes of lightning. They vanished as quickly as they came, leaving only a brief burning behind. Images of a woman with a broad smile, in spite of everything life had thrown at her. The circumstances always changed, but her smile remained the same.

"She sounds like a strong woman." Her voice pulled me back into the cold. I nodded. Cautiously. Afraid of scattering the memories. I didn't want to lose the images of the woman who had shaped me so deeply. The woman beside me patted my hand. I glanced over at her and felt the warmth again. For a brief moment it overcame the cold that wrapped itself around my skin, and the shivering stopped.

"She is… she really is." I swallowed the surge of pain rising within me. "When I was a child, I once hid her car keys." The memory made me exhale sharply and I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. Such a foolish memory, yet one that had always stayed with me. "She was furious when she found out. She had an interview for her dream job. She always wanted to be a pilot. Back then there weren't many opportunities, especially for a woman. But one day an airline finally got in touch and offered her a position. All she had to do was go to the interview. A formality, for her." I glanced over at the woman, who was listening carefully to my words. I looked at her as though asking permission to continue. Though really all I needed was her warmth to find the courage to go on. "She didn't get the job in the end. Because of me." More tears fought their way forward. I tried to hold them back, but I couldn't. Some ran down my face and burned against the ice-cold skin. But the woman said nothing, still waiting for me to continue. As though she knew it wasn't the end yet.

"When she found out I'd hidden the keys, she was terribly angry with me. That was the first time in my life I genuinely feared she might stop loving me." I wiped more tears from my face and paused. Felt my voice threatening to break. Searched for the strength to keep it under control, to keep from losing myself entirely in the memory.

"I don't know why, but I never told her why I did it. I suppose I felt hurt because she was so angry with me." The woman squeezed my hand an encouragement to keep going, not to give up but to see it through and say it out loud. "And yet the only reason I hid the keys was because I didn't want her to leave me."

The woman laughed. I looked over at her, surprised. Her hand patted mine and then reached for it. Pressed gently. Firmly enough to understand the message behind it.

"Don't worry. She's your mother. Of course she still loves you." I looked into her eyes and although my vision was blurred, I was certain they were full of kindness. I took her hand, held onto the tender moment, and felt the dam of tears break. It simply overwhelmed me. At first I tried to wipe the tears away. I didn't want to expose myself in public. But there were too many. Too many tears filled with so many emotions I had kept locked away for years, now breaking through all at once. Somewhat I didn’t even know where they all came from. The woman moved closer, put her arm around me, and I rested my head on her shoulder.

"Oh, little one. You mustn't cry." And for one small moment, it was perfect. The sunset. The water. This woman, the closeness, the warmth, and the relief that trickled down my cheeks.

For a few minutes we simply sat there. Leaning against one another, without words. They weren't needed. On the horizon the sun sank into the hills and painted broad red lines across the sky. The glittering on the water faded and was replaced by soft pools of light drawn onto the surface by the street lamps. We were alone, but not lonely.

"This is my favourite bench," I whispered at some point. It was true. I came here again and again, whenever things were especially good or very bad. I had sat here when my first boyfriend left me for another woman. Sat here the night before I moved to the other end of the country. And I sat here after I buried my father. This bench had accompanied me through all the good times and the bad. Because the view of that sunset made everything equal. No matter how grief-stricken I was, how helpless and depressed and wretched I felt, I could always find joy in that beauty. In a piece of home and belonging. Wrapped in an ever-returning counterbalance to life where it was simply okay to exist.

"My daughter loved this bench too!" She beamed at me and rubbed my shoulder. A glimmer of pride and love lit up in her eyes. The memory of it washed everything else away for a moment as she gazed at the play of colours in the sky with an almost melancholic smile.

"Where is your daughter now?"

She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Oh, she… she moved away. Built a career for herself." She paused for a moment. Her eyes grew glassy, as though a memory was creeping up from behind and wrapping itself around her mind. Then she smiled. "I'm so proud of her, you must know. My little Bella."

"Do you love her?" She nodded. "More than anything."

Something in my coat vibrated and pulled me from the woman's enveloping words. Stopped the next wave of tears before they could come. I didn't want to, but I had to. I took out my phone and answered.

"Yes?"

"…"

"Yes, I found her."

"…"

"We're coming now… okay - see you shortly."

I ended the call and let the phone disappear back into my pocket. With both hands I wiped the remaining tears from my face and breathed in deeply. I stood up and offered her my hand.

"Come on, Mom. We need to go now."

She looked at me, and for the briefest moment a clarity passed over her face one that had already long since been gone.

Then she smiled at me like she would at any unfamiliar face.