"Steemit Challenge s28wk2 : Remembering Through Healing”

Standing in the hallway Tina stared endlessly at the door of her mother’s room
into the night. The wooden doors which now looked older seemed like grieve has been carved into it even though the scent of the lavender which her mum loved could still be faintly perceived from it from a distance.

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Since she came back, she has been unusually drawn to this door as if listening and hopping that it would push open and her mother would step out of the room.

Heavy silence weighed around her as she opened the door.

The room was so neatly arranged as if her mum just stepped out of the room. Everything was exactly where they belonged even though it felt like they shouldn’t be there.

She sat down at the edge of the bed inhaling tufts of air in sharp successions as if battling the ears that stung her eyes and heart.

“I am trying mum” she whispered “But I feel like I am not doing enough to help” she said as tears ran down freely on her face.

A soft rasp echoed through the room as a gentle breeze passed through even though the windows were locked. She heard it vividly, it wasn’t a ghost or a voice but a memory, it was so clear that she felt it like a presence.

She heard her mothers voice in her mind “You fail when you stop trying, not when you love”

“I miss you”, she whispered as she rubbed off the tears on her face.

Her father’s weak cough down the hallway jerked her back to reality. Reminding her that she wasn’t the only one who was grieving.

Her younger brother Mike said he’s room was too cold and has started sleeping on the parlor couch again. Grieve has crawled into every corner of their house and has rearranged their mood, their silence and even their routines.

The next morning, while she was doing the dishes, her younger brother Mike stood at the kitchen door with tensed shoulders.

“Are you okay?” She asked

I thought I was loosing my mind I keep hearing mum’s voice he said.

“You are not loosing your mind” she said, I hear her too.

Both looked at each other, sharing a moment of vulnerability as they held each others gaze for a while.

Mike broke the silence “Do you think she could be trying to talk to us” he asked.

Maybe she has already but not the way we expected it.

That evening they decided to cook their mother’s favourite soup. Okra soup with vegetables just the way she always insists. She was biggie of veggies as she always says it’s good for life.

Their father soon joined them drawn in by the aroma of the food. He sat down in silence as he watched them cook. For the first time in a long while, the house was humming with warmth.

During dinner time, their father spoke up unexpectedly while staring at his bowl of soup.

She use to say that “The love always stays back to do the work when the body leaves”

Tina felt her breath tightened in her throat “The work. That’s seems to be what we are doing now” she said.

As she walked past her mother’s room that night, the door gently opened on it own. An invitation, no movement, no wind. Her heart summersaulted within her as she stepped into the room.

Her mother’s old jornal which she has never seen before lay on the floor as if it was carefully placed there.

With trembling hands she picked it up and inside it on the first page was a note for her written in her mothers handwriting:

“For Tina

If you are reading this, it means you came home as I always knew you would someday. I want you to always remember that healing is what teaches grief to walk beside you and not the end of grief.”

Tina placed the journal on her chest and exhaled deeply as her breath shuddered. It wasn’t a ghost nor was it a haunting.

It was love still doing the work. It was her remembering through healing