drift back into unconsciousness.
“Stay inside, baby,” I said as I shook him gently. “I’ll be back soon.” He nodded his head with his eyes closed.
It was early still. He would be sleeping for a while. After throwing on some old jean shorts and a t-shirt, I stepped into my parents’ room and headed for the cedar chest at the foot of their bed. My mother’s hope chest had all sorts of memorabilia in it. I carefully pulled out the papers, magazines and old photographs, laying each item on the bed until my desired heirloom was uncovered. The white stitching of her wedding quilt was still remarkably vivid. A few of the patches had some yellowing but not one thread of yarn was missing from the middle of each patch. An intricate pattern of white beads had been sewn into the corners of each square and beautiful lacework was added to the quilt edging years later by my mother.
It was never meant to be used until today.
I gathered the quilt up in my arms, found some latex gloves in the kitchen and left the house after locking it tightly back up to protect my sleeping babe.
The family tree was planted by my great-grandmother on my father’s side. My parents were married underneath the giant willow. Oversized white ribbons of satin covered the ropes which held back the weeping boughs, making it look as if the ribbons, themselves, were parting the great tree so that my mother and father could stand beneath it. The old photographs of their wedding seemed magical to me as a child. I remember trying to duplicate the scene when I was young while ruining my mother’s white sheets.
The tree was in viewing distance from our house, only about a football field’s length away and in the middle of a great field. When the sun would set in the summertime, it would fall down directly behind that lone tree. My mother took one picture of it every year and placed it in album. Her family tree album.
The tree had already budded to life and its green tendrils blocked my view. As I approached the tree, I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was possible that her body was gone, taken away by carnivorous creatures of the night and scavengers of the dead. I didn’t pause to collect myself before I crawled underneath the foliage. I braced myself without a tear.
Her body was still there. I saw the pointed shoe first, jutting out from the other side of the trunk. Moving around to the back of the tree I found her whole, decomposing body slumped over from where it had been leaning against the tree, a gun resting on her lap.
Sunlight suddenly broke through and streamed in from the other side without blinding me. It came in faintly, through the bending branches and around the tiny leaves, casting small pools of brilliance around me which moved back and forth as the wind gently caressed the thin limbs. The ground around us sparkled with dazzling brilliance and a deep sigh was caught in my neck as I choked back one sudden thought.
She knows I’m here.
“Oh, Mom,” I sobbed.
I carefully covered my mother’s remains with her wedding quilt and rolled her into a cocoon. She had always been small and was easy to carry home. I would bury her by the house, in her quilt. If I couldn’t bury her with Dad, the quilt would have to do. It was her most cherished possession and she would be close to home.
It took me three hours to dig the pit. I checked on Ronan twice and on the second time I found him awake and in the kitchen. I let him sit on the porch to watch me while I finished. After placing her gently in the bottom of the hole, I beckoned Ronan over.
We stood there, looking down at the crumpled figure underneath the white blanket. A few wisps of white hair stuck out at the top. I didn’t see the bloated corpse which faced me under the tree. Instead I saw my mother’s sleepin g figure, her beautiful face perfectly intact, smiling - resting - with her favorite quilt wrapped around her body. The quilt that reminded her of a lifetime
“Stay inside, baby,” I said as I shook him gently. “I’ll be back soon.” He nodded his head with his eyes closed.
It was early still. He would be sleeping for a while. After throwing on some old jean shorts and a t-shirt, I stepped into my parents’ room and headed for the cedar chest at the foot of their bed. My mother’s hope chest had all sorts of memorabilia in it. I carefully pulled out the papers, magazines and old photographs, laying each item on the bed until my desired heirloom was uncovered. The white stitching of her wedding quilt was still remarkably vivid. A few of the patches had some yellowing but not one thread of yarn was missing from the middle of each patch. An intricate pattern of white beads had been sewn into the corners of each square and beautiful lacework was added to the quilt edging years later by my mother.
It was never meant to be used until today.
I gathered the quilt up in my arms, found some latex gloves in the kitchen and left the house after locking it tightly back up to protect my sleeping babe.
The family tree was planted by my great-grandmother on my father’s side. My parents were married underneath the giant willow. Oversized white ribbons of satin covered the ropes which held back the weeping boughs, making it look as if the ribbons, themselves, were parting the great tree so that my mother and father could stand beneath it. The old photographs of their wedding seemed magical to me as a child. I remember trying to duplicate the scene when I was young while ruining my mother’s white sheets.
The tree was in viewing distance from our house, only about a football field’s length away and in the middle of a great field. When the sun would set in the summertime, it would fall down directly behind that lone tree. My mother took one picture of it every year and placed it in album. Her family tree album.
The tree had already budded to life and its green tendrils blocked my view. As I approached the tree, I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was possible that her body was gone, taken away by carnivorous creatures of the night and scavengers of the dead. I didn’t pause to collect myself before I crawled underneath the foliage. I braced myself without a tear.
Her body was still there. I saw the pointed shoe first, jutting out from the other side of the trunk. Moving around to the back of the tree I found her whole, decomposing body slumped over from where it had been leaning against the tree, a gun resting on her lap.
Sunlight suddenly broke through and streamed in from the other side without blinding me. It came in faintly, through the bending branches and around the tiny leaves, casting small pools of brilliance around me which moved back and forth as the wind gently caressed the thin limbs. The ground around us sparkled with dazzling brilliance and a deep sigh was caught in my neck as I choked back one sudden thought.
She knows I’m here.
“Oh, Mom,” I sobbed.
I carefully covered my mother’s remains with her wedding quilt and rolled her into a cocoon. She had always been small and was easy to carry home. I would bury her by the house, in her quilt. If I couldn’t bury her with Dad, the quilt would have to do. It was her most cherished possession and she would be close to home.
It took me three hours to dig the pit. I checked on Ronan twice and on the second time I found him awake and in the kitchen. I let him sit on the porch to watch me while I finished. After placing her gently in the bottom of the hole, I beckoned Ronan over.
We stood there, looking down at the crumpled figure underneath the white blanket. A few wisps of white hair stuck out at the top. I didn’t see the bloated corpse which faced me under the tree. Instead I saw my mother’s sleepin g figure, her beautiful face perfectly intact, smiling - resting - with her favorite quilt wrapped around her body. The quilt that reminded her of a lifetime
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