Mourning Time

Sunlight streamed through the window on her right, like quiet rays of liquid tranquility. A morning full of peace and hope. She let her eye lids lay, resting along with the rest of her in the warm stillness. Her husband was at work by now. They had talked it over the night before, and he agreed to take the boys with him on the way to the office. The first day of Kindergarten. And now, she would have the whole house to herself.

“Mom?” an unexpected voice called.

“Ugh” she groaned. What went wrong? Was Jacob running too late? Did Reuben refuse to go without his mommy?

“I’m here, Mom,” the little voice said from somewhere near her bed.

“Reuben, where’s your daddy?” She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up.

“Dad? Dad’s… gone, Mom.”

“Alright,” she said with a sigh. “Well, get dressed, I can take you myself.”

“Take me?”

“To school. You don’t wanna miss your first day of Kindergarten, do you?”

“I like Kindergarten!” the voice called back. But for some reason it came from another side of her bed.

“Benny? Are you still here too?”

When she finally opened her eyes and let them adjust, she saw her little Reuben at the foot of her bed. But Benny was nowhere to be seen. A tall bearded man sat to one side of her bed.

“Jacob? You haven’t left yet?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Mom.”

That’s when a sudden pang of fear shot through her body. It traveled down her spine like a bolt of lightning. An electric jolt to her lungs, kickstarting a series of panicked breaths.

“Oh my god! What day is it? What time is it? There’s Benny, but where is Reuben?”

“Benny? No, that’s…” As the voice trailed off, she had a vision of little Reuben waiting outside the school in the rain. Alone. Terrified. No one there to pick him up.

“Someone has to get Reuben! It’s half day, and they didn’t tell us! Why would they just send him home with a note and not expect he was going to lose it? Somebody has to… has to get him…”

The man at the side of her bed. Jacob? The gardener? Whoever he was, he seemed familiar. He took her hand and squeezed it tight. She turned to gaze in his eyes. Tears welled up in those crystal eyes as he peered back at her.

“Reuben is okay. He was in the rain. He was alone. But he went back to the school office. A woman found him scared and crying and called his father. His father called you. You hated talking to him on the phone. Or talking to him at all, heh. And the same for him. But he called you. He couldn’t get little Reuben himself, since he was on the other side of town.

“So you picked him up. You hugged him so tight that day. Just seeing you was a relief. He would listen for you every day. He knew the sound of your keys jangling, before he ever heard your voice. You were… an angel. His comfort and peace.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. The room all started to look different now. There was a beeping sound somewhere. It seemed like there were more people in the room. But it was foggy. Everything distant somehow.

“Wh-where is he now? Where is little Reuben?”

The man wiped damp dew from his eyes in the morning light and let out a tearful sigh. Red eyes beneath gray eyebrows. Salt and pepper hair. Crow’s feet and liver spots. A middle-aged man gazing at her with pleading eyes of affection. “It’s… it’s me, Mom. I’m Reuben.”

A flood of memories washed over her. And for a brief moment it all came back. Not entirely all. But enough. The fog slowly lifted, like the vanishing haze of a lingering dream. He had gotten so big and so quickly. High school and college. The first one in her family to get a degree. The first job. The first house. Her first grandchild. Reuben and Benny both had their families.

They were all there now. All gathered around her bed. What was it called again? Hospice?

A smile crept along her frail worn face. And she could see him there. Somewhere deep in this middle-aged man’s eyes. Away behind the cracks and stains of time on that gray man’s visage. A visage that transformed somewhere between the fog of her mind and heart. And so she could see him clearly again. Five years old with all the innocent vulnerability of a child, staring at her with such pure concentrated love.

“You’ll always be my baby boy.”

He nodded silently and fought away the tears. She slowly achingly leaned over and pursed her lips. Lips as wrinkled as the rest of her face. The wear and tear of time. Lips that had kissed so many bumps and bruises and acted like medicine to so many childhood pains. Those lips kissed him one last time, anointing his forehead before she drew him to herself.

After one last squeeze, just gentle enough to keep from breaking her frail bones, she let go.

“I should sleep now,” she said at last.

And so she did. To sleep. To dream. An undiscovered dream beyond all dreams. Where she might roll back time itself. For at last she moved beyond all time, and in that time beyond all time… who knows?