Dancing In The Rain

Letter Five

Letter Five

Sick and unmoving, Nora waits. She waits for mom to get back from the hospital cafeteria. Nora holds on to her last string of life so she can tell her mother goodbye. She feels it though. Death creeping up on her.

"Nora? Are you okay?" Ms Jacobs soft voice asks as she glides over to Nora's bedside.

"Never better." Nora uses all of her strength to smile as her mom grips her hand. "It's important that you... Call the number on m-my notepad. Tell the man to bring the papers."

"What are you talking about?" The woman looks at her dying daughter with curiosity.

"My lawyer. He has something for you." Nora breathes as her mother silently panics in her head. Why would her daughter need a lawyer?

"Okay sweetheart. I love you." The crying mother chokes out.

"I love you... too." Nora uses her last breath to say.

In that moment, Nora's slight hold on her mother's hand loosens. The machine to her left side flat lines and Ms Jacobs sits stark still. She's in shock that her only child has left the earth before herself. How is that fair? It's not but, being a religious woman, she believes that everything happens for a reason and it was God's plan.

*****

A week, two weeks, three. The letter has sat on the kitchen counter untouched. Ms Jacobs couldn't bare to open it the few days after her daughter's death when she received it. She couldn't read it after her funeral the week after her death. She still can't seem to grab a hold of herself when her daughter's best friend had the strength to read her own letter at Nora's funeral.

Ms Jacobs finally gets a grip and, taking the letter in her hands, rips the envelope open with a deep breath. Many thoughts run through her head. What could her daughter possibly say that she doesn't already know? She reads on after collecting her thoughts.

Dear Mama,

I'm sorry. I wish I could have been the daughter that lived longer, lived long enough to get married and give you a grandchild. I'm sorry.

It's probably been roughly three weeks since I passed, right? I bet you couldn't bring yourself to read it and I don't blame you. But this letter is just me shortly summarizing what you've done for me. It's a thank you.

Thank you for being the best mom possible. Thank you for putting a roof over my head and food on the table by yourself for seven years. I know when dad died it hit you hard, but you never showed it in font of me and thank you for being strong for me. You didn't need to. Thank you for taking me to ballet classes. Thank you for signing me up. I couldn't ask for a better role model.

I'll miss you. But I can wait. I'll be with dad so I won't be lonely. Promise me you won't mourn me for too long. Remember me, but don't mourn please. Go out and travel like you always wanted. Stay in touch with your friends, don't push them away like I know you want to. Be strong for me, Mama. I love you. You've showed me the strength of a mother's love that I won't forget even now that I've passed on. Thank you.

What I said about mourning? If you're reading this then you've given yourself enough time. Remember what dad always used to say and follow it! Follow your dreams. Complete a bucket list, just don't lock yourself up in your house. Splendid isolation isn't alway a good thing.

One last thing. Did I thank you yet? Oh, I did? Oh well, thank you again.

But just remember:

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Your grateful daughter,

Lenora Leigh Jacobs.