She had entered the room and gazed on the wall before her. The beauty that lay upon it was as magnificent as it was terrifying. He lay there watching her reaction as she clutched the pillar beside her and slowly fell to her knees with tears in her eyes. He crawled over to her, smiling slightly.
She raised her hand to her mouth, stifling her cries as her tears bawled down the sides of her round, chubby face. “Do you like it? I made it for you my darling….I want you to always remember,” he said gleefully.
She gasped while nodding her head. “I never thought I would see her again… She’s beautiful… I love it so much,” she replied with love.
You see, after they had married many years ago, the man had never had any idea what to give his wife as a gift. But one day, he began to have visions and dreams of a beautiful woman; young and vivacious. He pictured her as clear as day. She was loved by all in his dreams, yet there was always a little girl. A girl resembling her, as if being a mirror of her younger self. Her long, velvet black hair, her rich mocha skin, and the gorgeous maple brown-colored pools framed by mesmerizing almond-shaped eyes. She was a vision in and of herself, just like her mother.
The man finally realized that the woman from his dream was the birth mother of his beloved wife, the woman whose photos had all burned to a crisp so many years ago. And the girl was certainly his wife, as adorable as he had always seen her. So he ventured to find a place in the house that his wife hated most, where she felt heavy remorse and regret, and decided to paint there in order to bring joy to her always. See, the man was a skillful artist who often painted murals with the local children around town. He gathered his finest brushes and his most vibrant colors and set to work on the wall where his wife's precious memories were burned in a horrid fire.
Each stroke had a life of its own and immersed him more and more into the mural that was soon to be an open window into her beloved memories. The long velvet black hair, the almond eyes, the maple brown pools as the windows to the soul, but most importantly, the smile…..a smile so amazing that it paralyzed her daughter with happiness. She fought her tears, saying, “Thank you my love…I had never thought I would be able to see her again…I missed my mother so much…her memory was the only thing I had left of her… but now...” her eyes had fixed upon a spot on the wall. A small hole that she hadn’t seen before. “Did you see this?” She asked as her husband replied, “What? That rotting hole? I painted over it so it wouldn’t take away from what your mother wanted.”
She reached into the hole and tore the last pieces of rotting and molded wall. She found a small box, as dusty as the crevice it had sat in. She gently blew the dust away, then lightly removed the excess with her hands. She opened it and her heart stopped. “I didn’t think I would ever see this again…” she cried silently as her husband sat next to her in utter confusion.
“What is that? What do you mean?” He questioned.
“This was the last thing my mother gave me. It was her necklace…she…she left it to me the day she left…. Where did you find it?” The small, moldy box had housed a shiny blue sapphire necklace–trimmed with white gold. The husband stared at his wife puzzled, looking for an answer to a question he knew nothing about. Her birth mother hadn’t contacted her since she was fifteen.
Suddenly, they stared at the delicately crafted mural on the wall above them and almost as if it were a sign…the mural gained a color that was brighter than anything the artist had in his artillery and the mother's smile was far brighter and more exuberant than how he had painted it. Almost as if to remind her daughter to live the life she has and remove all the sadness in her heart.
The wife hugged her husband with all her might and they stood up, hand in hand, walking towards their room. She guided him out, signaling that she will meet him soon, and she turned, facing the empty room with nothing but the mural and her mother. She smiled and whispered, “Thank you mother. I will always miss you…” and almost as if to reply to her comment, a light gust of wind whisked her necklace to which she almost thought she could hear it say: “Keep me with you always, my darling daughter.”
A week later, her birth mother contacted his wife asking to see her, but before they were able to see each other again—only three days later—her birth mother died…leaving behind all her assets…including one small, blue sapphire necklace, trimmed with white gold.