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“Aunt Gabby can I sit with you?” She asked.
“Sure Wynnie,” I replied patting the wooden slat of the swing beside me.
She handed me her drawing tablet. “There’s a picture in there for you.”
“Really?” I lifted the cardboard cover and gasped. The notebook nearly fell from my hands they were shaking so hard. “How…how did you do this?” I asked touching the rough drawing paper where her charcoal pencil had created an image that hurt to view but healed as well. The anger that I had been feeling died within me in an instant of viewing Wynne’s picture.
“Nana was easy. I’ve been doing sketches of her since she got sick. Sam was harder.”
The picture was of my mother looking directly at me from the paper in my hand. In the image my mother was well with her hair. She was the vibrant woman we had loved and she was holding my infant son in her arms. This was something that I envisioned. Had dreamt about but knew would not be realized because of her death.
“It’s beautiful,” I said choking on the words trying to hold back the tears.
“I thought it was something that should have happened but since it didn’t maybe you would feel better seeing what if would have been like. Does that make sense?” My young niece asked.
I nodded as one tear and then another slipped from my eyes and slid down my face before plopping onto the drawing smearing one corner. I closed the cover not wanting the drawing to be ruined. She was gone. I had to accept that fact. I hugged Wynne and then found that I was sobbing on my teenaged niece’s shoulder. Poor Wynnie didn’t know what to do with me.
Thank God, Kerry came outside. Then, Issy followed. They stood by while I sobbed on my niece’s thin shoulders. Keegan came out and stood in the circle of her father’s arms. Adin came outside and sat next to me. She guided me into her arms allowing my niece some relief. She patted my back comfortingly.
“We’re here for you now,” she told me.
Then Micki came outside. “What’s going on?” She asked.
She stood next to Issy and held her hand. Gem came outside with Troy. The party had moved outside to watch me have a breakdown. All we needed was Brad and Pop. Their fears realized. I had been having a hard time with my grief moving between emotions ranging from desperate sobs to over the top anger.
They were going to be there to help me pick up the pieces as I had picked up the pieces for them so many times before. Now they were going to be the strong ones for me when I needed them the most.
When the tears passed I stayed in Adin’s arms unable to move away from the comfort that she was to me. Slowly they all went inside except Adin and Kerry. Wynne passed her drawing tablet to Kerry who peeked inside.
“Damn,” he said closing the tablet watching my niece disappear into the house. Then he sat next to me in the swing. He handed the drawing to my sister.
“She’s good,” Adin said knowingly. One artist to another. Her hand trembled just a little when she handed the tablet back to Kerry.
I sniffed and sat up between Adin and Kerry. My face was a mess. Kerry wiped the mascara from my face with a handkerchief in his pocket. He handed the soft cloth to me. I clutched it in my hand.
“How could this have happened?” I asked to either of them who might have an answer.
“How did what happen?” Kerry said. “How did your mother die without your permission or how did you suddenly become the weak one?”
Angry I glanced at him through red-rimmed eyes. I wanted to slap him I was so angry.
“Don’t be mad Gabrielle. If anyone understands how you feel right now I do. I was so grateful that you and Keegan were with me when my mother died that I didn’t have time to be angry. Then, I went home and you went to Eden and then I was furious. How could she have left me all alone? How could you?”
Adin glanced at Kerry. “Should I go inside?” She asked uncomfortably.
“No,” I replied my voice was thick from crying. Then Kerry agreed with me.
“Stay here,” he replied to my sister. “It broke my heart to know what you would have to go through…what I had just gone through.”
I took his hand. “I don’t know if I can survive this. Even Sam can’t make me happy.”
“That’s a big burden to put on such a little guy,” he said. His thumb rubbed sweet, soft circles on my palm.
Adin was holding my other hand. I glanced at her. She wasn’t crying. “Why aren’t you crying?” I asked her. “Aren’t you sad that she is gone?”
She returned my stare shattered that I could suggest that she wasn’t upset that our mother had died.
“We…all three of your sisters,” she clarified, “are trying to be strong for you because you have always picked us up when we needed you.”
