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Left with Memories

A story of lost things being found.

By Lacey GatewoodPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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Juliet Eden stretched her arms and her legs in her private cabin on the train after her long session of "writer's block". She chose the Amtrak Southwest Chief train, because it would take her about a day and a half to get to Albuquerque, and she needed the time to write, and also prepare for the days lying ahead.

Sadly it had been a couple months since she saw her father. She regretted her choice in not going to see him sooner.

Juliet's dad had survived cancer two years prior, but the cancer returned with a vengeance just months ago. There was nothing to do except live his last days of life to the fullest. The cancer was so aggressive chemo wasn’t even an option, so he was placed in hospice in November. The thoughts of her dad being alone and sick was enough to make Juliet shut down. This trip would be a painful one.

After being cooped up for much too long in her cabin, she decided to take a walk around the train. She went to the observation car and saw the big windows looking out into the scenery beyond. It felt more like the world was observing her, not the other way around.

It was nearing sunset and the colors against the desert sky looked spectacular. She sat for a while facing the windows, strangers were chatting and laughing around her. Some little girls, most likely sisters around 8 or 9, were on their tablets. Not even noticing the enchanting scene laid before them. What a waste, Juliet thought to herself.

After the sun had set, everyone started making their way back to the dining car to eat dinner. She wasn’t interested and chose to stay alone, with the darkness closing in around her both physically, and mentally.

Time passed on as she looked at the dark world beyond the glass. Realizing after a couple hours that she should probably get some rest. As Juliet was standing up to leave she had forgotten her phone was on her lap. She watched it slip off her jeans and disappear under her seat, making a not so pleasant crunching sound as it landed. Angrily she got on all fours to see where it had gone and to check for the inevitable broken screen.

She found it quickly enough, but noticed some other misplaced items under the seats further down the row. There were empty water bottles, ripped paper, an empty wallet, and... a black Moleskine pocket book.

She gathered all of the items, threw away the trash and looked into the empty wallet for any sort of identification markers. There was nothing to be found. She could have guessed. She then turned her attention to the little black notebook. It looked old, and worn, not something that would be forgotten. She opened it up to the first page hoping for a name, or some clue as to who it belonged too.

Inside she found colorful poetry and writing in other languages: Italian, French, and Latin. She gingerly looked through the little black book. It was captivating. The handwriting was beautiful, thoughtful and purposeful. It was filled with thoughts on life, interesting quotes, “don’t forget” notes, poems (both original and from other writers).

One piece of poetry stood out to Juliet, It opened her heart to the sadness that was ever nearing.

"The love I feel... is more than this,

This body, blood and flesh.

You are left with memories,

while I am left to guess.

I know not where I go from here,

Or if life is but a test

I only know within my soul

Love will conquer death."

la Fine

25, February 1997

Maria d'Angelo

Juliet's soul wept. She had to face everything she was trying to hide away from. Her absolutely debilitating fear of death, of losing her suffering father, and in turn being left alone in this big world.

Juliet quickly gathered all of the items she found and headed back to her private quarters, to mourn in peace.

The closer the train got to her destination, the more real everything became. It was all too much for her to deal with, and she cried with no reserve, and with the freedom that was sorely needed.

She woke suddenly the next morning remembering the little black notebook and empty wallet. They needed to be returned to their rightful owners. She asked the Coach Attendant if they had anyone named Maria d'Angelo on the train roster. They looked, but to no avail. She took it upon herself to find the rightful owners, the notebook looked too important to just leave in lost and found on the train.

Finally the train pulled into Albuquerque. She was secretly grateful she had time to get out most of her tears on the way. So they wouldn't be so ready to fall when she got to the hospital to see her dad. There were no miles between them, or phone calls to hide behind any longer. There was no more denying reality, it was time to face life head on and accept the cards that they were dealt.

-

Walking into the sterile environment of the inpatient hospice care center, the same unabating fear returned. How could he get sick so fast? He looked fine at Christmas, at least on the video chats he did. How would he look now? She stood at the closed door in front of his room, with a wish to be brave enough to get through the looming days ahead.

With all of the strength she could muster she reticently pushed the door open, and walked into her father’s quiet, dimly lit, room. The TV was on and Jeopardy was playing silently.

She pulled a chair over to the side of his bed.

"Hi Dad." Said Juliet in a whisper trying her hardest not to startle him.

Her dad opened his eyes quickly and there was a smile forming on his face.

"Juliet! You finally made it. I missed you." he said with labored breathing.

"They said I don't have much time left but these last few months have felt like 2 years have passed, waiting for you." he said jokingly.

Juliet laughed, "It felt like 10 years for me!"

“How is your book coming along Sweetie?” Her dad asked.

Tears sprung to her eyes. "Dad I tried to finish my last chapter on the train, but I couldn't do it. I just wanted so badly for you to read the ending.”

Looking concerned her dad said, "Juliet… when you are ready, the final chapter will come to you. You can't rush these things."

Juliet stood up and hugged her father gently. "I love you so much dad. I missed you... I missed you... so much. I am so sorry I couldn't come sooner.'' She wept on her fathers chest and they cried together in gratitude, sadness and unconditional love.

-

Juliet had 17 unforgettable days with her father before his final passing. The conversations, laughter, tears and memories they made, would never be forgotten. She read from the little black book when her father was feeling too weak to talk.

Juliet read to him seeing his eyes close as he would drift off to sleep. His favorite poem was by Salvatore Quasimodo an Italian hermetic poet.

"Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra,

Trafitto da un raggio di sole:

Ed è subito sera."

~Translation~

"Everyone stands alone in the heart of the world,

Pierced by a ray of sunlight:

And suddenly it's evening."

-

The little black notebook brought Juliet and her father closer together in those final days. She was so grateful she had found such a treasure. They even did some detective work looking for the author. They didn’t have to search hard when they typed in Maria d’Angelo. She was the first hit in the search. Sadly it was her obituary.

She was from Chicago and had died when she was just 30 years old in 1997. Under her obituary it said, Survived by her adoring Father, Henri d'Angelo.

She vowed to look for him so she could return the precious notebook that had such an impact on her and her father's last days together.

After her father's funeral, she headed back to Chicago with her fathers urn; and a peaceful sadness, that only time could heal. She read the cursive engravings on the front of his urn.

Ryan Eden

1960-2021

“I know not where I go from here...

Only that love will conquer death.”

-

Juliet was glad to be back in Chicago, in her apartment with her things, and an added comfort that her father would always be with her from now on.

Now it was time to find the owner of the lost, little black book. She was shocked to see Henri d' Angelo was listed in the phonebook, she prayed he was still alive. With all of this luck, she got the feeling that the notebook wanted to get home as badly as she wanted to get it home.

She called the number in the phonebook. It was picked up after the third ring, she told them she found a little black moleskin notebook on her train ride to Albuquerque from Chicago. It had the name Maria d'Angelo written on one of the pages.

There was a gasp in surprise, as they told her they had been searching for the book for weeks and were starting to lose hope. They were even so kind as to send someone to bring her to the d’Angelo residence to give it to Henri herself.

As she arrived at Henri’s home she was in awe of the beauty of his... not so humble, abode. She was escorted up the steps, into the beautiful home with marble floors, Tuscan décor and beautiful art, enrapturing all of her senses.

They rushed her up the stairs to Henri's office where she saw him sitting nervously, with visible apprehension escaping onto his weathered face.

As soon as he saw Juliet with the little black pocket book. His eyes overflowed with tears.

He walked slowly toward Juliet, with his outreached hands grasping for the worn notebook that clearly meant so much to him.

Juliet presented the notebook to Henri saying, "I think I found something of yours."

-

They sat and conversed over the triumphs and failures they had both had, and the sadness that would find its way into the quiet moments of both of their lives.

He told her how he had kept his daughter's pocket book on him at all times, to read her beautiful thoughts which would comfort him in his times of darkness. He told her it felt like she could talk to him through these pages.

Juliet completely understood. That little black book was a blessing to her and her father as well. She told Henri how they loved to read from the book, laughing and crying over the beauty that was within it’s smooth, worn covers.

When it was finally time for Juliet to go, Henri called one of his staff to bring him something. They brought him a leather bound cheque book.

He thoughtfully wrote out a cheque and handed it to Juliet.

Henri looked into Juliet’s eyes with so much gratitude and said in his lovely Italian accent, "This book is priceless. Your integrity is unmatched. You were not aware, because you were away from Chicago during our search for the notebook. We had said we would present a monetary reward to anyone that brought the notebook back to us. This is that reward. Grazie, Juliet. Grazie."

Juliet held the cheque that was handed to her. Stunned, she looked at the number written into the little rectangle. $20,000 addressed to her.

In the notes it said, "for the most precious gift I could ever receive."

The End

grief
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About the Creator

Lacey Gatewood

Illustrator, poet, lyricist.

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