5. Windowpane
It was snowing. He hadn't had much experience with snow in his twenty one years on the planet earth. And looking outside it was coming down in a single sheet of white fluff, like the cotton stuffing his mother used to fill the blankets she used to make to pay the rent. It was as if she was simply lifting it up over the window in order to surprise him into thinking that they were back in that mystical wonderland they'd created the year before she'd passed away.
It had been a terribly hot summer and his father was working two jobs in order to keep life afloat for the three of them. And his mother was making blankets by the ton. Lovely blankets for infants that were soft and were hand stitched with every animal that had been in Noah's vast ark. They were perfect in his six year old mind and even now as he stood, a grown man, watching the white fluff fall from his twelfth floor apartment, he could still see his mother painstakingly stitching each small dot of embroidery into the lion, the elephant, the giraffe for some rich woman's baby shower. And still he thought each was impeccable.
She'd hung a sheet of her precious stuffing over each of his windows and attached to one hung a note, carefully written in her meticulous script.
Jon,
It read.
Come find Momma for your surprise.
He'd not had the ability to read that last word, but his mother loved giving surprises. Once she'd had a friend of hers bring an amazing wolf cub over for him to see. The friend had worked in the zoo and was transporting it. His mother had persuaded them to give him the chance to see such a stunning creature. He had no idea what that friend had gained in return, however the memory was with him forever.
Out of his bedroom he torn that sweltering morning to find his mother sitting atop suitcases and wearing a heavily padded jacket that made her look a lot like the Michelin Man. His young head cocked to one side he giggled at the sight of his Marshmallow Mother. And in turn she giggled and held open her arms into which he happily was scooped up, kisses and cuddles ensuing as was their morning ritual.
Not long after his father had arrived home and they'd all picked up and left the house for an entire weekend. It was the last vacation he could remember until he graduated from high school. They had never had any extra money to spend on anything they didn't need. His father and mother had put aside their work and had reserved a tiny cabin on some mountain a couple of hours away in order to escape the heat. And because his mother wanted to be there when Jon first saw snow.
And at the age of six it had been astounding. He'd made snowmen and angel, had a snowball fight with his father and they even made their own snow cones. At night they spent the time telling stories in front of the warm fireplace and roasting marshmallow nearly identical to their coats, bought especially for the occasion. It was the best time he could remember from the whole of his childhood.
Even now, when tempered with the thoughts of his mother's needing to sit down and rest, having no energy and feeling utterly weak all the time, it was still one of the happiest moments of his young life. And the only time he could think of that his mother had been able to get away from her disease for a while.
A pigeon tapped against the windowpane, breaking through the memory and made him realize that he had no idea if that bird actually was a pigeon or not. He had to wonder.
It had been a terribly hot summer and his father was working two jobs in order to keep life afloat for the three of them. And his mother was making blankets by the ton. Lovely blankets for infants that were soft and were hand stitched with every animal that had been in Noah's vast ark. They were perfect in his six year old mind and even now as he stood, a grown man, watching the white fluff fall from his twelfth floor apartment, he could still see his mother painstakingly stitching each small dot of embroidery into the lion, the elephant, the giraffe for some rich woman's baby shower. And still he thought each was impeccable.
She'd hung a sheet of her precious stuffing over each of his windows and attached to one hung a note, carefully written in her meticulous script.
Jon,
It read.
Come find Momma for your surprise.
He'd not had the ability to read that last word, but his mother loved giving surprises. Once she'd had a friend of hers bring an amazing wolf cub over for him to see. The friend had worked in the zoo and was transporting it. His mother had persuaded them to give him the chance to see such a stunning creature. He had no idea what that friend had gained in return, however the memory was with him forever.
Out of his bedroom he torn that sweltering morning to find his mother sitting atop suitcases and wearing a heavily padded jacket that made her look a lot like the Michelin Man. His young head cocked to one side he giggled at the sight of his Marshmallow Mother. And in turn she giggled and held open her arms into which he happily was scooped up, kisses and cuddles ensuing as was their morning ritual.
Not long after his father had arrived home and they'd all picked up and left the house for an entire weekend. It was the last vacation he could remember until he graduated from high school. They had never had any extra money to spend on anything they didn't need. His father and mother had put aside their work and had reserved a tiny cabin on some mountain a couple of hours away in order to escape the heat. And because his mother wanted to be there when Jon first saw snow.
And at the age of six it had been astounding. He'd made snowmen and angel, had a snowball fight with his father and they even made their own snow cones. At night they spent the time telling stories in front of the warm fireplace and roasting marshmallow nearly identical to their coats, bought especially for the occasion. It was the best time he could remember from the whole of his childhood.
Even now, when tempered with the thoughts of his mother's needing to sit down and rest, having no energy and feeling utterly weak all the time, it was still one of the happiest moments of his young life. And the only time he could think of that his mother had been able to get away from her disease for a while.
A pigeon tapped against the windowpane, breaking through the memory and made him realize that he had no idea if that bird actually was a pigeon or not. He had to wonder.