"Oh, Mama," I said as I pulled away. I ran my hand over her hair and just drank her in. She laughed softly and then looked over to Marlo and grinned.
"My other baby," she said hugging Marlo.
"Should we walk?" she asked, gesturing out the window.
We all went outside and started strolling on a sunlit path. A light breeze blew and the scent of freshly mowed grass wafted in the air. Marlo led us toward a bench under a tree and Mama and I sat down.
"I'm gonna go get us some bottled waters. Do you want anything else?"
We both said no and Marlo left us where we were sitting. I knew she was giving us some time alone together.
I took my mama's hands and squeezed them. "How are you?" I asked.
"I'm so good, baby. I have my good and bad days, but I think everyone does. I'm learning a new normal—I'm learning how to understand my own emotions and how to deal with them."
"That's good, Mama."
She laughed softly. "Yes, it is good. The doctors here tried me on a few medications and the ones they have me on now seem to be the best for me. I'm in several therapy groups, too, and those seem to be helping more than anything. There are other people here who understand exactly what it's like to have a condition like mine." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "They understand the guilt of hurting everyone around you, even though it's the last thing you want to do."
I squeezed her hands again and then wiped a tear running down her cheek with my thumb. "You don't have to feel guilty. Not with me, not with Marlo," I said.
She nodded, but her expression was sad. "I do, though. You needed a mama, and all your lives, you and Marlo had to mother me. And I embarrassed you so badly . . ." Another tear ran down her cheek.
"I know you didn't mean to, Mama. I know that. There's nothing to be sorry for."
She took a deep breath and looked up at me. "I have a mental illness, Ten. And that, well, that's not going to change. But there are ways I can cope, things I can do, triggers I can avoid. I know that now. And I feel stronger. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like I have control over the monsters in my head. For the first time in my life, I have hope."
I sniffled and smiled at her. "Me too, Mama." I leaned forward and hugged her again.
When I sat back up, I asked, "Are you afraid to come home, Mama?"
"A little. I mean, look at this place." She swept her arm around and laughed softly. "It's kind of been a luxury vacation." She smiled, but then sobered. "But, I will need to get back to real life eventually, and that's one of the things I work on here with my therapists. When I come back, I'm going to get a job, do something . . . Sam has offered me a position in his front office and that sounds good . . ." She took a deep breath. "What I do know, though, baby, is that you can be in the most luxurious place on earth or you can be in a trailer on a mountain and if you're sick, you're sick."
"Our situation didn't make it any easier on you, Mama. I know that. So does Marlo. And now I'm home, and I'm going to have a well-paying job. I'm going to rent us a little house somewhere . . . we might not have a whole lot, but we'll have what we need. We'll live a comfortable life, okay?"
She smiled at me. "My girl—still taking care of me." Her smile turned sad. "You won't have to forever, I promise you. The thing is, Tenleigh, sweetheart, it wasn't always so bad. When your father first brought me to Appalachia, I loved it there, even despite the fact that we lived in a trailer in the woods. I loved the mountains and the streams and the sunsets. And I loved the people—there are characters there unlike any you'll ever meet, with the biggest hearts." She smiled and so did I. She was right about that. "And I was so in love." She looked down. "I know he didn't love me back, at least not in the way I loved him, but I want you to know, my baby, that I loved your father. I loved him with all my heart. When I look at you, you and Marlo, I remember that and sometimes it makes me sad, but mostly it makes me thankful."
Oh, Mama. I felt like my heart was bleeding.
I nodded, swallowing down the lump in my throat. Could I do that, too? Could I be thankful one day for the love I'd had with Kyland, despite the fact that it had ended in heartbreak?
"All these years, I had it in my head that the only thing I'd done worth any value at all was winning that stupid pageant." She shook her head sadly. "But I was so wrong. You, you and Marlo. You're the most beautiful things I ever did."
"Mama," I croaked out, gathering her in my arms and hugging her.
We strolled the grounds for a while after that, Mama, Marlo, and I catching up and chatting like girls for the first time in my life. Joy filled me and I found myself wanting to pinch myself every three minutes. Mama asked me all about San Diego, my classes, the school, and I found myself chatting animatedly in a way I'd never done before with her. It was wonderful. And for the first time in years, I remembered how sweet and shy and delicate my mama was when it was really her. She was so beautiful.
When we'd kissed Mama goodbye and got in the car, I sat there in joyous shock, finally laughing like a loon, and looking at Marlo like I knew I had lost it. She laughed, too. "I know!" she said, hugging me. "I did the same thing the first time I saw her months ago. I did the same thing."
I knew this hospital had given my mama herself back, first and foremost. But we'd gotten her back, too, and we'd also been given a part of ourselves as well, a part of ourselves we'd only experienced rarely: the role of daughter. I'd be forever grateful to Sam for this incredible, life-changing gift.
"My other baby," she said hugging Marlo.
"Should we walk?" she asked, gesturing out the window.
We all went outside and started strolling on a sunlit path. A light breeze blew and the scent of freshly mowed grass wafted in the air. Marlo led us toward a bench under a tree and Mama and I sat down.
"I'm gonna go get us some bottled waters. Do you want anything else?"
We both said no and Marlo left us where we were sitting. I knew she was giving us some time alone together.
I took my mama's hands and squeezed them. "How are you?" I asked.
"I'm so good, baby. I have my good and bad days, but I think everyone does. I'm learning a new normal—I'm learning how to understand my own emotions and how to deal with them."
"That's good, Mama."
She laughed softly. "Yes, it is good. The doctors here tried me on a few medications and the ones they have me on now seem to be the best for me. I'm in several therapy groups, too, and those seem to be helping more than anything. There are other people here who understand exactly what it's like to have a condition like mine." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "They understand the guilt of hurting everyone around you, even though it's the last thing you want to do."
I squeezed her hands again and then wiped a tear running down her cheek with my thumb. "You don't have to feel guilty. Not with me, not with Marlo," I said.
She nodded, but her expression was sad. "I do, though. You needed a mama, and all your lives, you and Marlo had to mother me. And I embarrassed you so badly . . ." Another tear ran down her cheek.
"I know you didn't mean to, Mama. I know that. There's nothing to be sorry for."
She took a deep breath and looked up at me. "I have a mental illness, Ten. And that, well, that's not going to change. But there are ways I can cope, things I can do, triggers I can avoid. I know that now. And I feel stronger. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like I have control over the monsters in my head. For the first time in my life, I have hope."
I sniffled and smiled at her. "Me too, Mama." I leaned forward and hugged her again.
When I sat back up, I asked, "Are you afraid to come home, Mama?"
"A little. I mean, look at this place." She swept her arm around and laughed softly. "It's kind of been a luxury vacation." She smiled, but then sobered. "But, I will need to get back to real life eventually, and that's one of the things I work on here with my therapists. When I come back, I'm going to get a job, do something . . . Sam has offered me a position in his front office and that sounds good . . ." She took a deep breath. "What I do know, though, baby, is that you can be in the most luxurious place on earth or you can be in a trailer on a mountain and if you're sick, you're sick."
"Our situation didn't make it any easier on you, Mama. I know that. So does Marlo. And now I'm home, and I'm going to have a well-paying job. I'm going to rent us a little house somewhere . . . we might not have a whole lot, but we'll have what we need. We'll live a comfortable life, okay?"
She smiled at me. "My girl—still taking care of me." Her smile turned sad. "You won't have to forever, I promise you. The thing is, Tenleigh, sweetheart, it wasn't always so bad. When your father first brought me to Appalachia, I loved it there, even despite the fact that we lived in a trailer in the woods. I loved the mountains and the streams and the sunsets. And I loved the people—there are characters there unlike any you'll ever meet, with the biggest hearts." She smiled and so did I. She was right about that. "And I was so in love." She looked down. "I know he didn't love me back, at least not in the way I loved him, but I want you to know, my baby, that I loved your father. I loved him with all my heart. When I look at you, you and Marlo, I remember that and sometimes it makes me sad, but mostly it makes me thankful."
Oh, Mama. I felt like my heart was bleeding.
I nodded, swallowing down the lump in my throat. Could I do that, too? Could I be thankful one day for the love I'd had with Kyland, despite the fact that it had ended in heartbreak?
"All these years, I had it in my head that the only thing I'd done worth any value at all was winning that stupid pageant." She shook her head sadly. "But I was so wrong. You, you and Marlo. You're the most beautiful things I ever did."
"Mama," I croaked out, gathering her in my arms and hugging her.
We strolled the grounds for a while after that, Mama, Marlo, and I catching up and chatting like girls for the first time in my life. Joy filled me and I found myself wanting to pinch myself every three minutes. Mama asked me all about San Diego, my classes, the school, and I found myself chatting animatedly in a way I'd never done before with her. It was wonderful. And for the first time in years, I remembered how sweet and shy and delicate my mama was when it was really her. She was so beautiful.
When we'd kissed Mama goodbye and got in the car, I sat there in joyous shock, finally laughing like a loon, and looking at Marlo like I knew I had lost it. She laughed, too. "I know!" she said, hugging me. "I did the same thing the first time I saw her months ago. I did the same thing."
I knew this hospital had given my mama herself back, first and foremost. But we'd gotten her back, too, and we'd also been given a part of ourselves as well, a part of ourselves we'd only experienced rarely: the role of daughter. I'd be forever grateful to Sam for this incredible, life-changing gift.
