Awakening

Sitting in the window seat, in deep thought Mary steered at the falling autumn leaves as they gently landed on the soft powdery snow. This time of year was always a difficult time for her because it was the time when she lost her mother to cancer. Mary always felt the death of her mother left her feeling lost and with unresolved issues they did not get to settle before her mother died. No matter how hard Mary tried to connect with her mother, she always felt something was missing, which prevented them from having a close relationship. One of the few warm memories Mary had of her mother was of her baking sugar cookies wearing her favorite pink fuzzy sweater at Thanksgiving. She always wanted to wear her mother’s sweater because she thought it would allow her to feel closer to her. Mary wondered when was the last time she saw the sweater and where was it located. Mary became preoccupied with wanting to find the sweater.

Visiting her sister Jane, Mary asked her if she had seen their mother’s favorite pink sweater. Jane replied, “Moms’ pink sweater.” Why do you want that torn ratty pink sweater?” “ I gave the sweater to you when we were in the attic packing away Mom’s stuff.” Mary’s response to Jane was one of surprise. “Are you sure you gave it to me because I don’t have it.” “I am positive I gave you the sweater because I did not put it in the give-away bag and I most certainly did not want to keep such a hideous sweater.” “By the way, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” “Would you like to have dinner at my house?”

After a long day at work, Mary sat curled up on the couch drinking a cup of hot tea. She was still angry with Jane because she did not believe her when she said she gave her their mother’s sweater. Mary looked all over her house in search of the missing sweater but she did not find it. The sweater meant more then a keepsake of her mother’s possessions. It represented a connection she wanted to preserve of her mother. She also felt an ominous feeling something bad and beyond her control was going to happen if she did not find the sweater.

Spending time with Aunt Sheryl her mother’s sister was always a treat for Mary. She felt her aunt understood her and gave her a safe space to express her concerns about her relationship with her mother. For some reason, Mary felt Aunt Sheryl was acting a bit strange. She seemed tensed and on edge. Mary placed a plate of freshly baked raisin scones and a cup of coffee on the kitchen table in front of her aunt. She watched patiently as Aunt Sheryl sipped her coffee avoiding the delicious pastry. Coincidently, Mary and Aunt Sheryl spoke at the same time. “Is something the matter Aunt Sheryl?” “Mary, I have something to tell you.” Aunt Sheryl dug in her handbag, slowly pulled out a worn envelope and handed it to Mary. Curiously, Mary opened the envelope and began to read the words written on the paper. As she read the letter, tears rolled down her checks. She experienced an array of emotions. She was shocked and angry at the same time. Mary turned to her as if seeing her for the first time, she asked her if what she had read was true. “My mother was not my mother?” Aunt Sheryl gently took Mary’s hand in hers. “Baby, she was your mother in every sense of the word.” “My sister may not have been your birth mother but she loved you like you were her biological child, just like Jane.” Every possible emotion Mary could feel came upon her like a ton of bricks. It all made sense. This is the reason why she always felt something was missing in her relationship with her mother. Mary felt numb and didn’t know what to think or do. She felt cold and alone just like the day her mother died.

Christmas day was an uneventful time at Jane’s house. After the presents were opened, the dinner table cleared, Mary was ready to leave and escape to her quiet cozy house. Before leaving, Mary made a visit to the restroom. Opening a closet near the door, Mary stood frozen steering at what looked like her mother’s pink sweater. Mary could not believe what she saw because Jane adamantly told her she did not have their mother’s sweater. She snatched the sweater from its hidden place under a stack of folded towels and marched out of the bathroom to confront her sister. Holding the sweater in front of her, Mary shouted at Jane. “What is mom’s sweater doing in your closet?” Jane looked shocked. She did not respond immediately. “Is that Mom’s sweater?” “I didn’t know I had that old sweater.” Mary responded by telling Jane she did not believe her. “Why would you steal Mom’s sweater, knowing she wanted me to have it?” In an unrecognizable angry growl Jane shouted at Mary. “I took the sweater because I always hated you.” “You were adopted and you stole all of Mom’s attention.” “I hated your relationship with Mom and I told her so.” “Mom’s favorite sweater belonged to me, her real daughter, not you.” A loud sound erupted in the living room. Mary could not believe she had raised her hand and slapped Jane across the face. Silence engulfed the room. Mary retrieved her belongings, walked out the front door, got in her car and drove away from her sister’s house.

A lightbulb seemed to turn on immediately in Mary’s head. She now realized why she felt something was wrong with her connection to her mother. Their mother was unable to fully show affection and interest to Mary because she had to consider Jane’s feelings. As Mary held the sweater, crushing it to her chest, she somehow knew her mother loved and cared for her. The old fuzzy pink sweater was one of her mother’s favorite possessions and she decided to give it to Mary before she died. Finally, Mary knew her mother loved her as if she was her biological child. Mary felt the closure she sought, absolving her of any unfinished resolution she had with her mother.