RISING FROM ASHES

Sitting at the edge of an old and squeaky bench near a weathered ancient tree and being concealed from the prying eyes of random bystanders, a once beautiful and now shriveled old woman was taking a deep breath, trying to gather crumbs of the story hidden deep down in the hollow caverns of her once brilliant mind. She was struggling to remember. It was so hard to slide down Memory Lane, covered with the ashes of an elapsed time. Her winters were getting colder, and the days seemed to be shorter now. The winds of an unforgiving time were gaining the turbulent power of a demented whirlwind. Scraps of memories, unrecognizable faces, events, and places were flickering like frosty snowflakes, so near and yet fragile, making an old woman angry and uncomfortable. Shivering with an uneasy feeling, she knew something was amiss. What exactly was that? 

“Concentrate and remember!” Tired and determined, she was pleading with herself, trying to reclaim her past. 

With a heavy sigh, an old woman looked around and picked a time-worn hand-held mirror from a rusty vintage stand. “Who are you?” Two pondering and deeply sad eyes were peering intently through the glass as if begging for answers. She was young and beautiful once; when and where? Where was all that? Somewhere far, in a half-forgotten dream… 

With a wistful sigh, Mariassa kept looking through the mirror, trying to visualize what her face used to look like before. 

A few muffled screeching noises from the street vaguely resembled the whistle of an ancient train. Startled, an old woman glanced back in the mirror, and a new image suddenly appeared in her mind, the image of an old steam locomotive rushing away from home to unknown, alluring places. She was so young, full of hopes and dreams back then!

An old train in the clouds of smoke, the train of her memories, reluctantly started going backward, gaining momentum. Remorseless wheels in a hushed silence were pounding in sync with the heartbeat. 

Clink-Clank…Clink-Clink… 

Clink-Clank…Clink-Clink... 

Unchained flashbacks, like throbs of bright and color-distorted lights, were randomly popping through her mind and then scattering hurriedly away. Frustrated, she couldn’t glue them together! “Toot-toot!” A harsh whistle of an invisible conductor echoed in her heart, reminding her of something faintly familiar from the past…

Exhausted, once young and vibrant, and now aged and very tired, Mariassa rubbed aching temples in a futile attempt to find missing pieces to the puzzle of her life. Again and again, through the years and distances, she was trying to get to the places that were either forgotten or perished in the dust of those long ninety-four springs and winters. Memories were avoiding the light of the day, almost unwilling to resurface. The frostbites of the dark holes gobbled up so many treasured mementos of her life story! If she could just one more time feel the love and hear the voices of those who had stayed in that once wonderful but now so unhinged Past. Damn this limping memory! She used to invent things and contribute to the Art of Science once before, didn’t she? …  

Uncertain and visibly uncomfortable with another failed attempt to remember, the old woman softly sighed and hobbled back inside the house. Walking was not an easy task for a no-longer-strong and now shriveled, drained body.

Now, in this almost unfamiliar and cold room, the room Mariassa had lived in for the past 25 years, restless, she was staring at the pile of old photographs. The television in the background kept playing in a loop a video with the stories recorded by her younglings, stories about her! How did they know what she could no longer remember? 

Strewn all over the dark wooden table, old sepia pictures smelled with a cold hint of a mystery. She lifted one of the photographs and started looking at the faces of people who, surely, left some marks in her life, touched her heart, made her laugh, cringe, or even cry. So many faces, some very dear, and some no longer recognizable. So many voices echoed through the distance of that now cruel time. Some of the voices in her head were familiar, and others unwillingly belonged to the now-strangers. She wanted to pass on the love, to keep and to protect those who came from her, those who will carry on. 

An antique clock on the wall kept persistently ticking like the relentless witness of the never-ending time. “Make it count, the minutes and days! Try and never give up!” 

An old woman wanted to be young and in control once again, as she used to be before.

The Memory Train kept on rushing backward to another stop, speeding along with different scenes and places. 

Clink-Clank…Clink-Clink… 

Clink-Clank…Clink-Clink… 

Her heart was racing. Today! It had to be today! 

Fixating her fatigued, almost cerulean-green, almond-shaped eyes on one of the photographs, Mariassa was willing herself to remember. Her dreamy, soft, and yet focused gaze was struggling to reach deep down into her past. Very tired, she wasn’t used to giving up. “What’s wrong with me? I have never been sick before!” An old woman smiled bravely, determined to remember. She had to! One wretched tear snuck from the corner of an eye, betraying her frail and once regal posture. “Smile instead of crying…” her aching heart echoed loudly. Inflamed, arthritis-bitten, unsteady fingers quickly brushed away the salty dew from the time-ravaged ivory-pale cheek.

She picked the next photo from the table and curiously looked around. The room was filled with the misty aroma of red roses. The flowers reminded her of a recent visitor. Her son! No longer remembering where he lived, she was happy to still remember who he was. An old woman smiled and then hurriedly thought of her daughter and grandkids, who were always around. She wanted to tell them stories, whatever scattered pieces from the past were still imprinted in her heart. They needed to know how much she loved them all!  Stroking one of the photographs, a weathered woman whispered to someone in the Past:  “I Love You.”…. Was it her first love, who perished in the murderous machine of World War II? Or was that a firstborn, the boy, who had always brought so much joy into her life?

She reached for the flowers in the vase, impulsively grabbing a delicate rosebud to inhale its fresh and fragrant scent. A frail burgundy rose bowed its withering head and dropped a few petals in the slightly shaking palm. “Hmm... Petals are almost like tears…” she thought, wistfully smiling.

Lost in the moment, the woman picked up a few more petals, looking at them closely. Suddenly exhilarated, yet weak taps of her heartbeat with a trembling and accelerating tempo started beating faster and louder as if anticipating the answers. 

The Memory Train abruptly stopped at some vaguely familiar station! “Toot-toot!...” Another deafening sound of a whistle! 

She gasped for air, unprepared, and then it finally happened! 

Suddenly, old photographs one by one, and almost reluctantly, began leaping back to life! Places and faces, no longer strangers, were rushing in, stumbling upon each other, and evolving at last into recognizable outlines. Excited, grabbing random photographs in a hurry, an old woman instantly knew exactly who and what was etched on each one of them! In a hurry, soaking in a lavish stream of her newly found memories and lingering in the momentum, she was thrilled and panicking if the time would run out again! 

The eyes instantly lit up with the bliss of satisfaction. A small, crackled laugh victoriously escaped a dry throat. The ever-spinning wheel of time joyously was sweeping through the racing heart, taking her breath away! She finally remembered. Remembered it all!

The Memory Train took off again, running in reverse to the next stop, and the wheels were pounding louder and louder, synchronizing with Mariassa’s heartbeat. The caverns of no longer hollow memory started unclogging and shedding flashes of lost stories back into light. The clock of life was waltzing faster and faster, spiraling to unknown heights and making her gasp for air! 

”Please, don't stop! Let me remember more,” she was whispering with a toothless, vivacious smile. At long last, her mind was finally back! Her moment has finally come! 

Another quick memory just rushed in. Different times and different places, somewhere far away, maybe in her homeland? She saw herself, a carefree little girl with blond curly hair in a satin pink dress, planting a tiny elm tree. Towering over with a proud and loving smile, her father was encouraging: ”Go on, plant this tree, little Mariassa, this is your root. It always will be with you everywhere you go…” 

Startled, an old woman chuckled in disbelief, and looked through the open door to the patio at the tall, withered tree in the garden, then pulled the chair, carefully set it down to catch a breath, and to smooth her wizened, used-to-be strawberry-blond, and now very grey hair. 

She was young once! When did her hair suddenly turn silver and her face fade with time? An old woman sighed and quickly went on rushing through the pictures, almost afraid, as if memories would fade away again. 

Her whole life kept violently spinning in front of bewildered eyes, now in the endless whirlwind. Cities, places, people, and years. All of it was lingering behind now. All that was left from the past was this tall elm tree. The tree, she believed, someone had named after her. She thought it was that same tree, her roots, her father. After all, he assured Mariassa that the tree would always follow her and be there. That much she always remembered. The magnificent giant tree in the backyard was now too old, almost like her, and its dry and deformed branches were reaching the sky in silent prayer as if begging the time to help remember: something, somewhere, someday. Now those memories were finally back!

Happy and exhausted, an old woman was looking into the face of a young and pretty woman, a granddaughter, whose image suddenly appeared in front of her. They were almost identical twins separated by generations and had the same zealous and determined characters. 

“Do you know, you are so beautiful?” she asked a young woman. 

“You are beautiful too!” The answer was quick! Hearing those words always made her chuckle with tender glory. “I was once,” came a quick reply. They always played this game to show their love and deep affection for each other. “Do you have a boyfriend yet?” Another question they both enjoyed toying with. 

Mariassa giggled happily, and then remembered again her son, her firstborn, her flesh, blood, and pride. He was an inexhaustible fountain of love and joy. Anticipating his visits, she always wanted to tell him again and again how much he was loved. He visited her the night before, and it felt indeed special to see him one more time. Now, an old woman felt tired, very tired from this arduous labor of remembering. Long-forgotten pieces of her so fruitful life stories were finally falling into vacant spots of the puzzle. She remembered it all: who she was, who she loved, and what mattered. It all felt alright! 

Her work here was done. She felt empty and exhausted now. The heavy eyes were burning with fatigue, yearning for a little nap. Gathering all photographs in a big pile, an old woman stood up and turned down the same video still playing in the background. Leaning on the old tattered chair, she started slowly pushing it in front of herself, steadying labored, careful steps, and finally hobbled over to the daybed. 

Slightly lightheaded and carefree, she nestled among a few oversized, tattered pillows. Taking a deep breath and covering herself with a cashmere throw blanket, very tired, she calmly closed her heavy eyes and soon dozed off with a smile. 

A few minutes later, peacefully dreaming and basking in retrieved memories, she felt something unexpected and exhilarating. 

Places and people buried in time for so long were very appealing and alluring now. Was she back to her childhood? Not sure if it was a dream, an old woman suddenly spotted five vaguely familiar silhouettes. Excited, her heart skipped a beat! Transparent in the crystal clear air, so near and yet so far, five shadows gradually formed into the long-forgotten faces of her parents and three brothers. Frozen in time, they all seem to be peaceful and content. Brothers with boyish smiles instantly started calling out her name, and her parents were waving to hurry up! 

Breathless and ecstatic with the wave of nostalgia, Mariassa looked around impatiently, unsure how to get there. They have all been gone too long! Afraid to believe it, she was overjoyed to see them and impatiently wanted to share new stories about the elm tree, grandkids, and everything else that came back to mind. They were all gone for such a long time, and were missing parts of her life puzzle, too! Yet she was still on the train! Darn, if she only had wings to fly over! Was it still a dream? 

The next moment, impatient and invigorated, an old woman saw herself back in the room, risen from the daybed. Her body was no longer frail. Happy and free from hobbling, she secured her stance. Like a phoenix rising from the flames of hurt, beating all her life struggles and defeating hard times, she shook off the ashes of exhausting pain and all impediments. It was such a long and blissful journey, no need for regrets! Strong and beautiful, afresh, she, the Phoenix now, smiled, rustling her wings and sweeping them over her grandson, a young and handsome man, and a granddaughter, who was the spitting image of what she, herself, used to be before. Young and radiant again, the woman wanted to hug them both tightly just once more! The magnificent Phoenix, risen from the ashes, was rid of agonies and burdens. Her time has come. 

Ready to fly, graciously stretching and spreading rusty wings, gorgeous and poised once again, she looked around the room for the very last time. Touching the faces on the photographs with a carefree and rueful smile, she slowly inhaled the scent of roses to keep it in her heart forever and silently mouthed:

“I loved you… I've ALWAYS loved all of you…

I always…………………….…       …………..           ......“    

Finally, she was going Home...

She was my Mother.