Time for a Tear
When you were born Belinda, my world ended.
‘Say Da, Da.’
Belinda gurgled up a smile, her eyes twinkled and her small hands playfully reached up to my grinning face. A face of recognition that waited for her to awake each day.
‘Say, Ma, Ma.’
Belinda turned her head in my arms to look wide-eyed at a picture of a beautiful woman. The woman who gifted Belinda with dark curly hair. Her eyes that sparkled the same as my wife’s – but unfortunately she had my nose. My wife carried her for nine months. Then one fateful day Belinda was born.
Bitter sweet. Triumphant and crushing.
‘She loves you. Just know that when you grow. She loves you to the core.’
Belinda patted the photo as if for comfort. Her young eyes seeking the wonders of the universe, where somewhere out there her mother looked down.
‘It’s getting late Belinda. You have dreams to attend.’
Cradled in my arms I carried to her cot and laid Belinda to sleep. I pulled the sheets up and placed a kiss on her head. I picked up an old teddy bear yellow and blue and place it by her side.
‘This was your mothers when she grew from your age. When you grow up perhaps one day you will give it to your child. When you do, you will know my love. Goodnight Belinda.’
I turn on the carousel above her cot that tranced her into sleep. I waited. I watched. Then I walked to a rocking chair in the corner of the nursery and sat. Another photo of her mother sat on a chest of draws. I picked it up and stared at it as I rocked gently back and forth. Painful memories from the shadows swept up to drench me.
The hospital.
#
‘Her heart rate is going up!’ cried a nurse.
‘Damn it! She’s almost there. Push Mrs. Gellar!’
My wife pushed hard as Belinda’s arms cleared. I stood by franticly trying to soothe her. The doctor checked the heart rate monitor. Sweat beaded his brow. This had become life or death.
‘She’s going into cardiac arrest, doctor.’
‘C’mon one more push, Mrs. Gellar!’
My wife screamed with one last push heaving through her body. Then there was a cry. A cry I would never forget. The sharp shrill of a baby. Then the last scream my wife would ever give.
‘Doctor!’
#
The rest was etched into my soul like a blade into a heart that still bled to this very day.
I rocked quickly back and forwards on the chair holding that photo to my head, as if to tattoo that smiling face in it to my mind.
‘God why?’ I whispered, with a choke in my voice.
There was never an answer. But there will always be Belinda. She slept blissfully in a cot her mother and I had chosen. In a room we painted and prepared. A construction to build Belinda’s life up from.
My hand fell heavy to my lap and I stared longingly at my wife’s smiling face.
‘I miss you so, so much. Please come back to me.’
I took a deep breath then place the photo back. When all was safe I stood and left the nursery to go to the bedroom. I lied down on the bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. I turned my head to watch my wife roll over. She smiled with those sparkling eyes. She mouthed words that I have forgotten the meaning.
I reached out to brush her cheek. It found nothing but a ghost that disappeared at my touch.
A wedding ring that still clasped our union rested heavy on the empty space on our bed. My thoughts turn to the family we should have been together. Of opportunities lost. But this was the life I had now. Though I stand alone I will stand strong for our Belinda.
I will be her hero. I will be a faltering step in a path we navigate together. I can do most things, yet fail as I might I will strive to give her a life of goodness.
Such is this love. Encompassing and unbearable. The light and the dark entwined in a journey. When all hope is lost there will always be you, Belinda. The touch of happiness. The heat of love. A laughter so joyous. I can be strong but never for always.
And there will always be a time for a tear.
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