Her story

It was one of those days again, where something within her stirred up an emotion, a memory which she tried so hard to suppress. It had not always been like this, Jean usually had good days at work, filing papers, rescheduling and making new appointments, quickly writing down in short-hand everything and anything that came out of the mouth of that old, grey-haired, cranky, feller she called boss. She seemed content. But today being home alone in her apartment was a completely different story. The atmosphere was different, it was here where she didn’t have a job to hide behind, where she didn’t have a variety of tasks or that flimsy notepad titled, Things To Do in which one would find over ten bullet point scribbles listing things to do to keep her busy, there was no way out of Jean facing that which she dreaded most. Today was one of those days where the cuts and sores that have yet to heal bled, causing so much pain and anguish which many times seemed unbearable. As Jean leaned against the vintage designed wallpaper that covered her small but yet cozy apartment living room, she slowly began to lose herself in those thoughts that constantly overwhelmed her. Instantly, her thoughts begin to race bringing up to surface that which she so easily and quickly learned to suppress deep within her core. She feels she is not ready to deal with it today; she wished she didn’t have to deal with it, not yesterday, not today, and not ever. She didn’t know how to deal with the pressure, she couldn’t handle the pain that was caused by it, and she was terribly afraid to get so lost in her thoughts to the point where she would never again be able find herself. As her thoughts continued to run, she was abruptly awakened by a raspy, high pitch screeching sound that came from a of a tree branch being violently blown from side to side and then dragged across her living room window. Regaining her composure, Jean slowly removed her heels and headed towards the window where that screeching sound was coming from. As she approached the window she realized how quickly the sky had shifted from a beautiful cloudless, sunlit sky into a dark, nimbus cloud filled sky ready to release what has been stirred within. Jean also noticed the sparks of bright yellow and purple which looked to be lights flashing, appearing and instantly disappearing throughout the sky and soon after she heard the booming sound of thunder causing her to tremble inside.

Still dressed in her black, knee length, skirt and white, long sleeve, buttoned up, collar shirt Jean needed some good ole chamomile tea maybe then she will be able get herself together again. She walks past her living room and is careful to move her heels further aside so that she won’t trip over them on her way back while carrying a mug with freshly brewed hot chamomile tea. The pot is now on the stove, and the mug Jean’s older sister gave her with an imprinted picture of her family is set on the counter ready to be filled with pure deliciousness. As Jean stretches the most she possibly can and even tries standing on her tippy-toes to reach a tea packet she is unable to do so because just like her mama, Jean is only 5ft. and the tea packets are all place in the top right shelf where she can’t reach. Jean laughs to herself as she stands on the step ladder looking for the tea packet. Carefully stepping down the ladder she replays having seen her mama do the same thing multiple times. Jean recalls her mom having to climb the ladder to reach the spices she needed for the meal she was preparing. At that time Jean found it humorous that her mom had to use a step ladder but now she completely understood. After a couple of minutes the teapot sings loud and proudly announcing the water is ready. Jean then turned the stove off and carefully poured the water into the mug with already the tea packet inside and then adds two teaspoonfuls of sugar, again just as her mama did. Taking her mug between both hands she begins to take small sips in order to fully savor the teas. As she sips the tea Jean recalls vivid memories of her mom leaning against the kitchen counter drinking her tea in a slow pace as to actually savor the tea Jean thoughts are swayed to what it was like when her mother was around. She enjoys reliving those timeless memories of spending hours and hours at her mom’s side eagerly listening to her every word. She also remembers those stormy nights when she would wake up frightened due to a nightmare. Jean would quietly walk into her mother’s bedroom and lay next to her mama’s side. It was almost as if her mama expected her arrival. With such tender care and love her mama would wrap her in her arms, embracing her reassuring that everything would be okay. In that moment, nothing else mattered, no monster could ever get her because she was in mama’s embrace; she was safe. Still drinking her tea Jean sighed heavily as she longed for those days spent with her mom. Jean was very much like her mom although she had much of her fathers character, she had her mom’s well defined cheekbones, beautifully prominent shaped hazel eyes, her mom’s luscious dark brown curly hair that reached the middle of her back, and she had the same distinct mole her mom had to the left side between her upper lip and her nose. Throughout middle and high-school years she became very involved in sports and other extracurricular activities mainly to avoid what was beginning to shake her world upside down. Things were rapidly changing around the house, dad was hardly home, and during that same time she learned that she had a younger brother she never knew about.

Jean placed the spoon in the dish washer and headed back into the living room. By now Jean’s tea was halfway gone but still warm. She sat comfortably with a blanket outstretched on her lap facing the window where she could see the storm taking place outside as she continued with her tea and her thoughts. Jean can’t stand to think of anything else but of the good days spent with her family, when she felt as though she had the perfect family. Anything else she keeps hidden to herself, she almost tries to erase any memory of it so that maybe the pain will be gone too. As she watches the rain drops fall she wonder if one day she will have to spring forth just like those nimbus clouds outside were pouring out what had been constrained inside. She knew that one day she would have to true to herself. Then and only then will she be able to see the rainbow that comes after the rain showers. Even though those thoughts were in the back of her mind Jean felt as though she couldn’t handle the pressure that corned her. Once again her thoughts began to overwhelm her. Not the happy thoughts about her mom but reality hits and hits hard. She can’t handle the pretending, she can’t take suppressing her feelings anymore and she cant bear to tell what happened so the next best thing is to just…

That same grey-haired, cranky, old feller who Jean called boss is now giving a eulogy at the funeral of a young lady who many times kept to herself but was a hard worker and very caring. She never saw the rainbow.