Sara drove into Honesdale, Pennsylvania, on a crisp fall day in her Honda Civic, ignoring the noises it made. Enjoying Mother Nature's fall pallet of red, gold, and orange. Parking across the street from the hospital, she exited the car with joy in her step. 

 

Her mother, Olive, was in room 220 on the second floor at Wayne Memorial Hospital. Sara took the elevator to the second floor. Upon entering room 220, she did a double take to ensure she was in the right room. Yesterday, Olive was sitting on the side of the bed, making plans with Sara. Today, she was lying flat on her back, appearing asleep. Sara held her hand, hoping to awaken her gently. Sara gasped as her mother did not move.

 

Sara whispered, “We’ve just gotten back together as mother and daughter.” 

 

Hearing Sara’s voice, Olive tried to respond by opening her eyes. She focused on her eyelids and tried to lift them. Olive felt as if something was tying down her eyelids. She made multiple attempts. Then, the next time, putting all her energy into her eyelid movement, she could feel herself falling into the darkness. 

 

 

Sara turned her attention to the door. Nurse Jackie walked in, carrying an IV bag. 

 

“Hi Sara, how are you?”

 

“Terrible”. I thought my mother was being discharged today, and I come in and find her like this.” Tears were sliding down Sara’s face as she pleaded with Nurse Jackie for an answer to what happened to her mother.

 

“Let me get the doctor,” Jackie said as she headed for the door.

 

“Now, I never will find out her secret?”

 

 

 

The door burst open, immediately bringing Sara’s attention back to the room. In came a tall gentleman with wheat-colored hair and tanned, looking like he’d just come off a beach. He wore a white lab coat with his name embroidered in blue thread above the pocket. Before Sara could read it, he introduced himself as Doctor Cortez. He reached across the bed to shake her hand. Looking into Sara's eyes, he said,” The news is not good. Your mother had a stroke last night at about 4 AM. We did an MRI to confirm it.” 

“You have a choice to transfer your mother to a nursing home. The chances of her coming out of the coma are less than one in 100. Or you can move her to a hospice bed. They will keep her comfortable until she passes.”

 

“May I have a few moments alone?”

 

“Of course, of course,” Doctor Cortez said, as he left the room.

 

Sara fell into the hard plastic chair. Pulling out her cell phone and dialed her husband’s number.

 

 

“Can you please come?”

 

“I will be there in 10 minutes.”

Sara sat in that chair, crying. Tears were sliding down her face and dripping into her lap. The door opened slowly, and Ben peeked into the room. Ben looked at Sara’s tear-stained face and rushed to her. His arms were open, and Sara stood up and went into his arms for a hug.

 

Sara looked into Ben's kind hazel eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”  

They hugged for a couple of minutes.

 

Before Ben and Sara could discuss the situation, Nurse Jackie came in and shooed them out so she could take care of Olive. She said, “The cafeteria is open.”

 

Sara did not want to leave her mom. Ben said, “Let’s go get coffee, then we’ll come right back.” The cafeteria worker had just put a new pot of coffee to brew. So, they were gone for a total of 10 minutes.

 

On their return, Nurse Jackie blocked the way as they walked to her mother’s room. She said solemnly, “Dr Cortez wants to talk with you.” She shuttled them into a conference room.

 

Dr. Cortez came in and sat next to Sara. She turned toward him. He took her hand in both of his. “There is no easy way to say this: your mom has passed.”

 

“Oh no, she was supposed to tell me a family secret today. I’ll never find out”

 

“Would you like to see her?” Sara nodded her head yes. Holding hands, Sara and Ben went into room 220. Sara was crying, and Ben took out his sizeable white square folded handkerchief and handed it to her. She held her mother’s hand for the last time and prayed for God and his angels to care for her. 

***********

Just like her organized mother, she had written out her wishes. Her mother’s lawyer, old Mr Flannery, contacted Sara, and as requested, he sent a copy of this document to her e-mail.

 

Olive wanted a viewing at Flannery's funeral home for one afternoon, followed by a funeral mass at St. James and then cremation. Thinking ahead, when her father died, Olive had her name and birth year chiseled on the gravestone. The only thing that needs to be added is her death year.

 

As expected, Sara and Ben were standing near the head of the casket. Sara was in a loose, black sheath dress unadorned with jewelry. She was twisting a lace-trimmed hankie in her hands. Many flowers surrounded the not-so-expensive casket. Mr. Rogers, Olive's neighbor, was first in line. He shook Ben’s hand, turned to Sara, and hugged her. Sara was about to erupt in tears. She whispered, Thank you.” Ben could see Sara was in distress, so he took over talking to each person in line. Thanking them for coming. Finally, the last folks came through, and Sara could remove her pasted-on smile. 

 

The following day, at 9:30 AM, Sara and Ben arrived at Flannery’s funeral home for one final private viewing. Six firefighters from the local firehouse volunteered to be pallbearers. Olive had been an active member of the fire department auxiliary for most of her adult life. 

They tucked the casket into the hearse. Sara and Ben rode in the black limousine provided by the funeral home to St. James Church. After cremating Olive, they would inter her with her husband in the St. James Cemetery next to the church.

 

*******

 

With the funeral behind them, Sara spent a day writing thank-you notes
Her mother had so many friends in the community.

 

Sara did not feel like eating. With all the food brought over, Sara knew Ben was eating well. The next day, Olive’s will was to be read. Sara tossed and turned all night.

 

“Ben, nothing fits. I have lost so much weight.” Sara had never been overweight, but now clothes hung on her like a scarecrow. She reached into the back of her closet and fished out an outfit that had been too small for her. A pencil-style skirt suit in navy blue. She finished the outfit with black ballet flats. 

 

Olive's house was within walking distance of the lawyer's office and the bank. Ben asked Sara, “What do you think your mother left you?”
“If I know her, a stack of bills or some old furniture that will not match our farmhouse decor or stand up to kid's wear and tear.

They walked into the lawyer's office. Mrs. Samson escorted them to a conference room. The number of people in the room surprised them.  As Sara and Ben sat down, Mr. Flannery opened the folder. As the lawyer started reading, Sara tuned out. Looking out the window, hoping to see a red cardinal. Some people see a cardinal as a message from the afterlife. A message that signals everything is okay.

“For my dear daughter, Sara, I leave the contents of a safe deposit box and the sale proceeds from my house.” Mr. Flannery, handed Sara a safe deposit key and the deed to her mother’s home.  Ben and Sara went around the room, talking with each person. All the people in the room thanked Sara. Chief Wilson kept shaking her hand and thanking her. He told her the 10,000 dollar CD would go a long way toward a new ladder truck. Ben grabbed Sara’s elbow and slowly moved her away from the chief. They both shook Mr. Flannery’s hand and thanked him for caring for Olive’s financial needs.

 

Sara thought it could go a long way to care for their daughter Angelina’s needs. She is dependent on someone to care for her.

 

After walking to the bank, Sara and Ben approached a teller and reported they wanted to open a safe deposit box. 

 

“Do you have a key?” she asked. 

 

“Yes,” said Sara, and she pulled the key out of her purse

 

“I am Elizabeth, and I will represent the bank in opening the safe deposit box. Please follow me.” They walked down the corridor and ended up in a room full of safe deposit boxes. Elizabeth walked to the larger boxes. She rifled through her papers. “It is box 667.” Elizabeth put her key in the keyhole, and Sara put in hers. “Turn on the count of three.”

 

The box slid out, and Ben carried it to the table. Elizabeth asked Sara to sign a form indicating she had opened the box. Elizabeth left, and Sara and Ben opened the lid. Hundred-dollar bills filled the box. 

 

Shock overwhelmed Sara. There were so many times in her life she needed some help. When she went to her mother, her mother always responded, "Both you and Ben are adults. Figure it out." Sara sat on the hard wooden chair, put her head on the table, and sobbed. Ben rubbed her shoulder and whispered, “Let it out, honey. When you're ready, there is an envelope here for you.”

“I cannot read it today. I’ll save that for another day.” Ben slipped the envelope into the inside pocket of his suit coat.

 

Walking back home, “That was a pleasant surprise”. Stated Ben. 

 

 

How are we going to handle this? Ben asked Sara. 

 

“I think we should get that Victorian monstrosity, mama’s house. Ready for the market.”

 

“Sara, if I took on remodeling that immense house, you and the kids would never see me.”

 

“I didn’t mean you would do it. We have money for the remodel. I would like you to supervise. You know more about remodeling than I do. Sara and Ben were holding hands. Sara took a diagonal step and hugged Ben’s arm.

 

******

 

Ben was up early, and it looked like Sara had been up last night. There was a cup, Sara’s favorite tea cup, and some torn pages. Ben sat in Sara’s chair and realized the torn papers were from Olive’s letter to Sara. Ben remembered putting his suit jacket on the back of a kitchen chair. Sara found the letter, and who knows how much she read before ripping it vertically and horizontally?

 

Ben could hear Sara going into the bathroom. He had to move quickly. He scooped up the torn pages and put them in the bottom right drawer of his desk. Then, he rinsed Sara’s teacup and put it on the counter. He knew Sara would want a cup of tea before she left for work.

 

 

Ben looked at Sara as she dragged herself into the kitchen.

 

“You look worn out, hon.” 

 

Sara slid into her seat at the kitchen table. “I took a few days off from teaching. I have nothing to give. My cup is empty.” Ben put a cup of tea on the table in front of her, followed by a slice of wheat toast, lightly buttered, just like Sara liked it. “Mary Lynn, Angelina’s daytime caregiver, offered to care for both girls as long as needed.” 

Sara stared off into space, unable to see what was around her. Remembering last night, she read the opening: My dear Sara, I am not your biological mother. Emotions flooded Sara then, and they flood her again now.

 

Her 7-year-old daughter, Emmie, came into the kitchen with her unicorn backpack ready for school. She gave Sara a big hug, oblivious to the turmoil going on inside her head and her heart. Sara hugged Emmie with as much energy could muster. As Emmie went out the sliding glass door, Sara stood to watch her get on the yellow school bus.

 

Sara stuck her head into her daughter Angelina’s room and walked toward the front of Angelina’s chair

 

“Hi Mary Lynn. Thank you so much for offering to help with both girls.”

 

Sara stepped close to Angelina and put a hand on each side of her head to stop her constant movement. She looked into her daughter’s eyes and said, “Good morning. I love you.” Sara felt a heavy sadness in her heart. She did not know if any of her love made it into Angelina’s heart.

 

“Mary Lynn, I am going to take a nap. My phone is in the kitchen. Feel free to answer it or ignore it; it's your choice.