MEMORIES LIKE TULIP
I looked into her eyes again, she had her usual long shining black hair and glaring brown eyes. She was, of course, used to smiling in such a way that her dimples would become visible and I’ve always loved the fact that I inherited that from her. Despite all this, I still missed her so much. Yes, she had left when I was twelve years old, she left me with Dad after they both had heated arguments over what I had no idea about, for months before Dad finally agreed to sign the divorce papers. I could remember how a tear dropped out of Dad’s left eye that day and that moment, I made up my mind to always hate Mum.
After she left, I was reluctantly enrolled into a boarding school and Dad was able to focus on his businesses. For some reason, Dad would deprive Mum of seeing me whenever she requested it. But here she was, after ten years of living apart. She was beginning to have fine wrinkles on her fair face and I watched her continue laughing heartily as I cracked jokes and recited my poetry to them. All thanks to my 22nd birthday. I wondered if I would get to see her if Dad hadn’t asked for what I wanted for my 22nd birthday. And yes, my brain processed the answer quickly.
“A picnic! With you and Mum”, I snapped out and I watched the gleam on my father’s face disappear. He didn’t say anything but walked away.
That night, guilt caressed my heart and I wished I hadn’t said anything about Mum. But it was different from my expectations, quite unlike what I imagined. Sitting on the picnic mat, by my right side was Mum pouring herself some wine and Dad laughing sheepishly. Even though they wouldn’t tell me the reasons behind their divorce. I still felt elated to see them come together again because of me. Even if it was for a day, the memory remained there as I held it closely and dearly to my heart.
“Thanks for taking care of Cynthia, Daniel”, Mum uttered and winked consistently, she wanted to make an impression, there was no doubt about it. Dad turned to her and smiled. “She’s been my daughter ever since can remember and I dare not leave my responsibility and run away.
Those words, I knew, hit and I watched Mum’s facial expression change almost immediately. Truly, she left behind her responsibility and took off. “Hmmm”, she sighed and smiled “Well I hope I will get to see more of her now”, she whispered but Dad heard.
“Your choice, after all, she’s your daughter too”, Dad said while he fed me a hand of the delicious popcorn prepared for the picnic and couldn’t my happiness.
After that, Mum said nothing more, and we all enjoyed every bit of the picnic. I was glad the day came. Ignoring the fact that I had always hated Mum, I still accepted and allowed her to come to see me every month, and I cherished every moment spent with her and the picnic remained my happiest memory that would never evacuate my heart.
