Julianne Marguerite sat on the edge of her bed and dabbing her eyes with her tissue. She could not believe that after being gone over thirty years that her family was willing to throw her away again, rather than to settle issues of their past so that each could heal and move forward.
Of all the trials she faced, Julianne Marguerite found this to be the hardest to endure, because this was the one thing she wanted more than anything else in life…to be reunited with her family and to finally in peace be the family they should have been before her parents got involved in a four-way affair that lasted over 30 years.
With tears falling from her eyes that were stemming from her broken heart, Julianne Marguerite tried to rehash in her mind what had taken place less than an hour ago when her sister Aude’ had come for a brief visit. It was not a social call, but one that had to do with settling their mother Edith’s estate affairs. Edith had recently passed away and had not committed to all the arrangements that need to be done before one passes away. She left this for the children she left behind to deal with.
Aude’ had been left in charge of her estate and was now proportioning out to the siblings what Edith had wished for them to have as a memory of her. I kind of chuckled when she came to give me my share because money, or belonging were never what I wanted from Edith when I had reunited with the family after all my time away. I wanted a relationship with Edith. A mother-daughter relationship and one full of joys and memories that would be priceless in our hearts forever.
I stood holding the box of dishes, Edith had always promised she would pass on to me and even though these were very special to me…they were not what I wanted. I could not find any joy in receiving these, as I had not received what I always wanted most…a mother. I could not understand how Edith thought these few possessions she had left for me, or for any of the siblings for that matter, was going to allow them closure.
At this moment I was feeling anger. I was angry that she had not been woman enough to settle the past and undo the damage that weighed on each of our shoulders and ask forgiveness so that her children could have peace after her death that would allow an opportunity to draw the remaining siblings close together. A peaceful bonding did not happen, and instead Edith’s death pulled us further away.
As I sat on the edge of the bed, I wondered how things could have been different. If I had stayed away, maybe the closetful of memories that each of us carried in our mind’s attic may never have submerged from their dusty boxes. Clearly my coming home reopened the wounds caused by the years of lies and games played. Questions we had as children will remain unanswered as Edith; the last remaining member of the foursome wickedly took these secrets with her to her grave. This was cruel and I found myself cold. I grabbed the quilt on my bed and wrapped it around myself but I could not find warmth.
The only thing that would help me to have warmth would be the love a mother should have had for her children, the care and concern that came with loving them and the knowledge that undeniably let us know that her words were truth and spoken as if they had been written in stone. Instead…I only felt the coldness that was void of all warmth children should have been able to console themselves with when their mother, our mother died. I suddenly realized that a little part of each of us went to the grave with Edith. But the one who could have put a Band-Aid on our wounds with ointment to stimulate healing and kiss them to make them feel better would never do so. She had died. Tragically if there was any hope of uniting this too died with her. The family I had wished for…would never come to be.