Alone (16 page)

“
I'm sorry,” I said embarrassed.

“
For what?” he asked honestly confused.

“
You come here, I am sobbing uncontrollably, and then I fall asleep pinning you here,” I laughed at the absurdity.

“
Don't be ridiculous Willow. That's why I'm here.”

“
Why?” I asked.

“
That's what friends are for right? I mean, I couldn't just go home to Portland leaving you here to grieve alone.”

Friends, it didn't seem right to want more from him so friendship wasn't so hard to settle for. At least he wouldn't be out of my life forever. And then, something he said confused me, “Portland? I thought you lived in New Orleans.”

“
I do most of the time. However, I was raised in Portland and I have a small house there that I like to escape to when I can.”

“
Oh.”

“
So, this is where you live,” he said with a smile.

“
Yeah. I know it's not much, but I like it.”

“
Actually, it's exactly how I pictured it. It's like an art studio with a bedroom,” he said amused.

“
Actually, it is exactly that. I had rented this studio after high school and I lived in a tiny apartment. As you can imagine, I was here more than the apartment so I got permission to add the kitchen and a wall for a bedroom.”

“
That doesn't surprise me at all,” he said laughing. “So tell me what you thought about the show.”

“
It was weird, but in a really great way. I mean, I’m not used to so much attention so last night was kind of out of my comfort zone, but everyone was so nice...”

We talked for a few hours before he had to leave to catch a plane to California. I was sad to see him go but he gave me his phone number and told me to call if I needed anything. It was so hard to know what Jace was thinking. Sometimes, I felt like he did care about me more than just as an artist. Sometimes I thought there was some chemistry between us, but I thought that was just my wishful thinking. I suppose it didn’t matter now. He was all the way across the country, probably not even thinking about me.

I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself from Mrs. Schneider’s funeral the next day. I cleaned my apartment, painted a little and even made my way to
City Woods
again. I spent a good hour reading all of the little notes of hope that surrounded it. This really made me feel a lot better. Mrs. Schneider spent so much time helping others and I felt like this painting would have been something that she would have been so proud of. I was going to miss visiting with her and hearing her notes from the organ echoing across the city, but I was so glad that I had taken the time to get to know her.

When I awoke in the morning, I was instantly depressed. Mrs. Schneider's funeral was just a few hours away. I was dreading the final goodbye. I prolonged my shower, a feeble attempt in letting the hot water warm my core. I dressed mechanically in my black velvet pants and plum colored shirt. I threw some gel in my hair and made some oatmeal and a pot of coffee. I sat on my couch to eat my breakfast. I was going through the motions like I was stuck on auto-pilot with absolutely no thought in anything I was doing.

I don’t know what made me think of it, but I remembered that I hadn’t read the letter that Father Salmon gave me from Mrs. Schneider. I pulled it out of my coat pocket that was slung over the couch and took a deep breath before reading.

Dear Willow,

My beautiful girl. So many hours we’ve spent talking, laughing and crying together. I know you are hurting right now, but I want you to know how much I do love you.

When you came to see me that first time, you told me your name and a little bit of what your story was. It didn’t take me long to figure out who you really were and I would like to apologize to you for not telling you this sooner.

I have told you my story of how I came to live in St. Mary’s but I’ve always left one part out. The young girl who helped me that first few months on your street, it was your mother. I am telling you this now because I want you to know that there was a time that your mother had love and compassion in her heart. She helped me so much that I could never repay her.

Also, you once told me that you were named after the saddest tree on earth. I don’t know why she would ever tell you that. That was the hardest story for me to hear from you because it is the furthest thing from the truth. After your mother and I would panhandle during the day, we would meet at the library underneath the Willow trees. She told me that she was going to name her little girl Willow so she would always remember the friendship we shared.

I was so afraid that you would stop coming to see me if I told you this while I was still on earth. I couldn’t lose you Willow dear. I have always thought of you more as my granddaughter than anything else. Please forgive me for keeping this secret.

As for you, I want you to truly live your life. Promise me you will do things you’ve never done and see things you want to see. You have so much to give and so much to share, to keep it all inside would be such a shame. I know how hard you have worked on yourself these last few months and I think you are learning to love yourself for the first time. You’ve gone through an amazing transformation, show that to the world.

I know you will miss me, but I’ve known for awhile that my time was coming soon. I don’t have a single regret in this world and I want you to be able to say the same. Never doubt how much I loved you.

Love always,

Mrs. Marilyn Sue Schneider

By the time I had finished the letter, the tears were blinding me. No matter how difficult it was to believe what she had written, there was no way Mrs. Schneider would tell a lie. I wasn’t angry at her for not telling me these things before now because I knew that I probably would not have come back to talk with her if she had told me she knew my mother.

More than anything, I felt bad for my mother that something had happened to make her so cold and unloving. I don’t think I will never understand why she decided to take her anger out on me over all these years, but I was glad that at least someone was able to see another side of her. I hope that someday she’s able to find that part of her once again and embrace it.

When I finally composed myself, I walked to the church which was already filled with people there to say goodbye. Knowing that they were only a small percentage of the people Mrs. Schneider touched in her lifetime brought a smile to my face. This tiny woman truly made a difference. Of course, I had always known that, but seeing the 200 or more people in the pews brought what I already knew to a new light.

The church was decorated with lavender bows and lilacs, their scent permeated the air. Lilacs were always her favorite and every spring, the organ had vases with purple and white bunches in them. I saw the open coffin at the end of the aisle. I was suddenly dizzy with grief again and I couldn't go up there just yet. I sat in the back pew next to a girl much younger than myself who was sitting by herself.

“
She understood me when no one else did,” the girl said behind her tear stained eyes. I couldn't really tell if she was speaking to me. “She was one of those people you just think would live forever you know?” I did know. “I felt like she loved me I knew she loved me.” The girl looked up at me, searching for some sort of comfort.

“
She loved all of us,” I said wholeheartedly. “She was an angel here on earth.” The girl crushed her head into my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I put my arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. Everyone here was feeling some degree of this grief.

The service was beautiful and heart-wrenching as people told some of their stories of how they came to know Mrs. Schneider. I thought that maybe I should say something, but I was too emotional to talk about her. After the service, there was a small reception at The Italian Bistro where the mood was a little lighter. Everyone had such amazing stories about Mrs. Schneider and I was able to learn so much more about her. Over the years, she had never talked about anyone that she would counsel. I used to think that this was because she didn’t want to break anyone’s trust. After tonight, I realized that it was because she was never thinking about anything other than the person she was with.

Father Salmon pulled me aside and gave me a small pin that had an amethyst daisy and emerald leaves.

“
Mrs. Schneider would wear this every Sunday for services,” he said. “Her husband gave it to her the night before their wedding day. I really think she would love for you to have it.”

“
Thank you,” I said. “I won’t ever let it out of my sight.”

“
Have you read her letter yet?”

“
Yes, just this morning actually.”

“
Pretty amazing, don’t you think?”

“
Very amazing, in many ways.”

“
She’s really going to be missed,” he said.

When I went home, I put the pin on my dresser so that I would see it when I woke in the morning.

CHAPTER 14: OPPRESSION

For an entire week after Mrs. Schneider's funeral, I sat on my couch, a lifeless blob. The pain of her death was still very real, but it was more than that which was putting me in such a state. I was having my nightmares again. It didn't make any sense for me to be having it, I wasn't so alone anymore. I wasn’t depressed like I was before, so why was I having the same frightening dream night after night?

I had to force myself to leave the house to get groceries. It just felt like every time I stepped outside, I entered an alternate reality. New Jollie didn't feel like home anymore. I was a stranger here for the first time in twenty-three years. It would have been easy to say that losing Mrs. Schneider and no longer having our talks was what made me feel so alone again, but that wasn't the only reason. I knew there was much more to it. Even when Sara would come to visit me, I wasn’t close to the same person as I had been. I even saw her glancing at my arms, checking if there were any new scars.

Yes, the urge to cut was there, and I think it was because I was secluding myself again. For the most part, I was able to ignore the urge and focus on something else. When it was particularly difficult to ignore is when I would force myself onto the streets of New Jollie. More often than not, seeing the kids playing in the street, or going to see
City Woods
would get me out of the depression I was feeling.

I couldn't quite pinpoint what was different about the little town to make me feel this way. The same people worked in the same stores, the same kids played hopscotch on the sidewalk. Nothing had changed at all, except me. When that realization came, is when the nightmare came back.

Part of me knew I was still grieving for the loss of my friend, but obviously it was more than that. I just didn't want to be here anymore. Maybe the dream really was a premonition, of what would likely happen if I stayed here. I decided it was time to take Jace's advice and research the galleries I was most interested in, and what better research than personal experience?

That snapped me out of the stupor I was dwelling in. I made plans to visit New York City and Portland, Oregon. There were two galleries in both cities I was hoping to hear from. They were on the top of my list from all the people who came to my show. I was excited to go see the galleries for myself.

I knew there was something else I had to do as well. It was time to say goodbye to another friend. I never thought this time would come and I wasn't exactly looking forward to making it happen, it was more than a little scary. However, if I was able to go through the death of Mrs. Schneider without cutting, I knew the time had come to let it go. I waited until Sara came over to have the proper goodbye.

“
So where are we going exactly?” Sara asked while we were in my Jeep and almost out of New Jollie.

“
Not too far, I promise. I just have something I need to do and I wasn't so sure I could do it alone.” That wasn't completely true, I was positive this wasn't something I could do without Sara.

“
You won't tell me?”

“
You'll see. I think you'll be happy you came.”

It was a short time later that we reached the turn off I was searching for. I pulled over and turned off my Jeep.

“
We're going on the trails? In the middle of February?”

“
The walk is only five minutes at the most. There's a bridge on the trail that goes over the canal.”

Sara followed me to the trails which were spotted with snow patches. It had been unseasonably warm lately so the water in the canal flowed pretty easily around the ice that still refused to melt. I could hear the water as we walked to the bridge. I was suddenly very apprehensive about the meaning of this trip when we reached the bridge.

“
So,” I started quietly, “When we first met, you discovered that I was a cutter. Shortly after that you saw the knife I use.” I pulled the knife from my pocket and continued my monologue. “For too many years I used this knife time and time again to work through my emotions. I am finally ready to completely let go of this destructive part of my life. I wanted you to be here because it was mostly you who started me on the path to the realization that I don't need to do this anymore.” I didn't realize I was on the verge of crying until I looked at Sara and my tears spilled over. She was crying silent tears as well as she smiled at me encouragingly. I rubbed my thumb against the handle of the knife that no longer set me free from reality, but instead kept me from reality.