no more goodbyes

Every so often, when the moon was at its brightest and most powerful, Saira would open her eyes to find herself in a room unlike the one she fell asleep in. Where she woke up was beyond her control; sometimes, she found herself in worlds unlike her own, while othertimes, she found herself in a fragment of a memory of someone long forgotten.

But wherever she was, she knew that her dreams would take her to places man only dared to dream of exploring.

Tonight was no different.

She awoke to find herself under a frilly canopy and tucked under an elephant print blanket. She turned her head and saw a stuffed giraffe beside her, and beyond that, the tendrils of sunlight creeping into the bedroom, illuminating the barren bookshelf and IKEA desk pushed against the wall.

Her childhood bedroom.

A figure sat at the end of her bed, patiently waiting, their face obscured by the shadows.

Saira knew that figure well. She had watched that figure on the couch countless times, staring at her in wonder as she expertly manoeuvred the yarn trailing through her fingers to wrap around a pair of knitting needles.

She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. “Mom?!”

The figure moved out of the shadows to reveal her mother’s bright smile. “Hi, honey.”

“Mom!” she exclaimed, her voice barely able to contain her joy. She pushed her blanket aside and crawled to where her mother was still sitting. “It’s you!” Saira threw her arms around her.

Her mother chuckled as she hugged her daughter. “It is me. How is everyone?”

“Okay, I guess. We all really miss you.” She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to stay in her mother’s comforting embrace forever.

Her mother sighed. “I really miss you all, too.” She hugged her daughter tighter. “But I’m glad everyone’s doing okay.”

Instantly, she felt guilty for lying to her mother. “Actually,” she said slowly, “we’re not. We’re functioning but we’re not okay. Kelsie’s angry all the time and sometimes, I hear Aiden crying in the middle of the night but he’ll get mad at me if I try to comfort him. And Dad … well, he doesn’t really talk much these days. I miss the old Dad. I miss us.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Saira buried her head into her mother’s shoulder. “Everything sucks now that you’re gone.”

Her mother stayed silent for a while. “I wish I didn’t go, either,” she finally said. “But that life was not in the cards for me.”

They stayed like that for a while, pouring all the longing and sorrow they were feeling into the embrace. “It’s been a while.” Her mother gently pulled herself away from Saira’s arms. “Let me look at you,” she said softly, pushing her daughter’s hair away from her face. “I like what you’ve done with your hair,” she commented as she tucked Saira’s pink highlights behind her ears. “It’s a nice contrast to the black.”

A lump rose in Saira’s throat. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing the sound of her mother’s voice, feeling her gentle hands caress her face. “Thanks.”

Saira stared at her mother, wanting to commit her mother’s face, her soft eyes and rounded cheeks, to memory. It had only a few years since she had lost her mother, but it felt like an eternity.

Her mother caught her gaze. “What are you doing?” She laughed. “You know what I look like.”

“I’m just afraid that I’ll forget what you look like one day,” Saira said, tears welling in her eyes.

Her mother reached out a hand and carefully wiped the tears away. “You won’t,” she reassured her daughter. “This is why we have pictures … to remember the moments we had with the people who are no longer with us.”

“But it’s not you,” Saira protested. “Your pictures don’t laugh, your videos don’t sound like you, and none of them ever can save your hugs.” She fell into her mother’s arms again. “No one gives hugs like you.”

“And no one is receiving my hugs again,” her mother reminded her, “but you.” She gently unclasped Saira’s arms around her waist. “You have a great privilege here. Don’t waste it on complaining on what isn’t when I’m still here, when I can still talk to you.”

Saira sighed. “I know.”

“It is what it is. You can’t change what has happened and what will continue to be.”

Saira looked away, refusing to acknowledge the truth in her words. “So what do you suggest I do?”

“I can’t tell you that. But what I can tell you is that you hold more of me than you realize,” she said, smiling. “And you’re here, sitting in front of me, talking to me … don’t you think this is a gift?”

A gift. “A gift is not for you to keep, but for you to give away,” Saira said softly.

Her mother looked at her in approval. “Exactly. And now you know what you have to do.”

──ღ──

Saira looked at the window and noticed the shadows beginning to creep through the curtains. “I’m going to go back soon, Mom.” Her chin trembled. “I don’t want to go back.” Saying goodbye was always the hardest part, and Saira was about to do it a second time.

“But you have to. You’re only a guest here—a very, very welcome guest, but your destiny is not here with me. Not yet.”

Her mother was right, of course, but it didn’t make her leaving hurt any less. “I can never control where I go. What if I don’t come back here again? Is this goodbye?” she asked.

“Not goodbye,” her mother said firmly. “‘See you later’. I know that you will come back to me. Believe that you will, too.

“Now go.” She kissed her daughter on the forehead. “Our family needs you.”

──ღ──

When she woke up, her body back into the room she had fallen asleep in, she swore she could still feel the linger of her mother’s kiss on her forehead.

She descended down the stairs, feeling the weight of her mother’s love on her shoulders, and knew it was not for her to keep. She found her sister in the kitchen, bleary eyed and eating a toaster waffle. “Morning,” Kelsie mumbled half-heartedly. This was all routine: the pleasantries, the faked smiles, and false promises. They could all see right through each other’s lies but none were strong enough to point it out.

Lies, built by pain and sorrow and loneliness, but still lies nonetheless.

Wordlessly, Saira wrapped her younger sister in an embrace and kissed her on the forehead, just like their mother had done to her moments ago, and to her sister every morning before school.

And for a moment, Kelsie could feel the touch she had been missing these past few years.

But as quickly as it came, it was gone. As Saira pulled back from the embrace, she could see the tears forming in her sister’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t need to say anymore; the weight behind the words said more than words ever could.

Saira nodded, her eyes mirroring her sister’s. “Of course.”

Without another word, she disappeared from the kitchen, in search of a boy whose heart was broken, who yearned for a mother’s love he could no longer receive. And later, she would tell a grieving widow that his beloved was okay and at peace, allowing him to heal, and for the first time since her passing, forgive himself for things that were not his fault.

──ღ──

When the next month rolled around and she found herself staring at the moon, round and washed aglow by the sun, Saira wondered where her dreams would take her. She hoped that she would see her mother again in that tiny bedroom she once called home and tell her everything that had happened since they last met.

But even if it wasn’t her mother waiting for her at the end of the bed tonight, she knew that she would see her again. She just had to wait.