Shades of Life

I couldn’t help but to only notice our differences. “I don’t understand why you are so desperate to get rid of her stuff!” I shouted at my dad. I could tell my face was turning red. I started heating up and trembling with anger. I stood looking at my father and his new wife Megan as they sat on the living room floor, picking through my mother’s things like they were at a garage sale. Folders and scratched-up CDs littered the area around them. The scent of burning wood in the fireplace couldn’t eclipse the stench of the old boxes that were brought down from the basement. Banker boxes and totes of God-knows-what lined the walls of the house. My mother seemed like a hoarder when I looked at the obstacles the mess created.

“Listen, Gail. I know you’re upset,” My father said.

“Upset? Gee dad, why would I be upset?” I snapped back.

“Look, if you can’t handle this, you need to go!”

Megan grabbed my father’s arm and softly shook her head at him. The feeling of her protecting me started something in me that I didn’t know was there. I threw down the things I had picked up from one for the totes and shoved a stack of boxes as hard as I could. The tumble was heavy and satisfying. Trinkets and papers and some old devices spilled onto the floor next to me. “Gail!” Megan yelled as the mess overflowed in her direction. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked or upset. But I decided not to care. “Get out!” my father yelled, pointing towards my room.

I made sure to slam the door as hard as I could as one last display of anger. I slid onto my bed, buried my head deep into my pillow, and wept. My body heaved as I dove deeper and deeper into my feelings. Every time I wanted to get up, the thought of my mother not being there to hug me spiraled me back into sorrow.

After some time passed and everything that was in me came out, I turned over in bed to orchestrate the numbness. I thought about what my life would be like now that I had a dead parent. I wondered how to prep myself for all the questions I would get at school. Scales in my mind weighed the straining persona of being the depressed girl or the fun I could have becoming the wild child my dad would grow to hate.

My thoughts drifted upward until I noticed the smell in the room. I sat up in bed and returned to reality as the piles of boxes we couldn’t fit in the living room stared back at me. They were dusty. Dingy. Some were stained from something that seemed to be there for a long time. The idea of my dad, or even worse: Megan, coming in here to go through them got me to my feet. I stood up right next to the stack which was just under eye level. After a quick examination for spiders, I picked up the dirty box from the top of the stack and slid it onto my bed.

The contents of this one were topped with old legal pads, random objects, and half-filled notebooks with doodles my mom must have written and forgotten about. Some of them weren’t so bad. Fish and hearts and eyes. Others were just scribbles and things that made no sense. I grabbed the small handful of those, setting them aside in a pile next to the box. After digging around for a while, I found a folded-up piece of paper towards the bottom that got mixed with a few other things that settled to the bottom of the box. The corners were bent pretty badly. It had yellowed a lot, more than the other pieces of paper, so I figured it had been in there for a while. I carefully opened it, making sure not to rip any of the flimsy note before getting to see what it said. To my surprise, it wasn’t my mother’s or father’s handwriting.

“Dear Shonda,

I’ve been missing you so much. I know things were rough the

last time we saw each other at the pear tree, but you still

are the one that keeps my heart flowing. I can’t think of

anyone else but I know how things have to be. Please give

as much love to our Gailybird for me as you can. I hope she

continues to be a reminder of my love for you and what

we had. I’m holding myself together knowing she is getting

the love she truly deserves. I will always be eternally grateful

for being able to cross paths on earth with such a heavenly

woman.

With deep love,

Tony”

I gazed at the letter, unsure of what I was holding in my hand. I turned it over for any further explanation I could find. “Who is Tony?” I asked myself repeatedly. I tried to think back to any relatives I might have met and forgotten about. I knew just about everyone, but “Tony” was a name completely new to me. My mother never mentioned him. And no one had ever called my father anything but “Phil” or “Philly”

I searched the boxes for anything that could give me any answers. I skimmed back through every notebook, every file. Nothing. I sat atop the mess I just made and stare at the letter again. I had so many questions. I stood up to ask my father about anyone I could have missed but found myself frozen at the door. I let go of the doorknob and plummeted back onto the bed. My breathing shallowed as I clinched the note from the strange man in my hands.

Every question paralyzed me. The thought of bringing the note to my father made my stomach turn in every direction. But I knew that if I didn’t say anything, nothing would ever be the same between us. I procrastinated the conversation by putting my mother’s belongings back into the boxes I had gone through. I took the opportunity to glance over anything that could make sense of this. My heart started to beat quicker with each item until it was all put away. After failing to find anything else to do, I stuck the note in my pocket headed down the hall to the living room.

The looks draped over their faces made me want to turn back. The scene I caused earlier wasn’t my proudest moment. My dad’s glare had softened a bit, while Megan was looking me over for any sign of how I was doing. I wasn’t sure how well I did, but she eventually decided to get back to the work she was doing.

“Do you need something, Gail,” my dad asked.

“Uh. No. Not really,” I replied.

He didn’t bother looking up at me. And I didn’t hold that against him. I leaned against the wall of the doorway looking around the room for something to get my attention. My mother’s hats and sundresses piled high in one of the totes next to my dad. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t giving them to Megan, but it didn’t seem like a good time to bring that up. The note burned in my pocket. The questions got bigger and thicker in my throat the longer I pretended.

“Do you... do you know Tony? Anyone named Tony?” I asked. The words came out sloppy and unnatural. Like I was gargling what I wanted to say first before spitting it out. My father took a patient breath. I could tell he was still upset with me but looked at my question as a truce. For now. “Umm… Couple of guys at work, I guess. One goes by Anthony. Why?” Luckily, Megan included herself in the conversation before I got to answer. “I knew someone named Tony when I was in school!” she said, loud with enthusiasm.

I mustered up the best fake smile I could, which seemed to be good enough for them. I walked over to the pile I pushed over earlier. Picking up piece by piece, I put most of it back into the boxes. I quickly glanced over at my dad and Megan, who seemed to not be paying attention. Once, I knew it was safe, I took the crumbly note from my pocket. The yellowed paper was falling apart in my hands. I rubbed the old sheet one more time, hoping the smell would linger on my fingers before quickly throwing it into the fireplace next to me. The flame devoured the note as if it was hungry for its secret. I stayed close by until it was gone forever.

Tears streaked down my face, and I decided to let them fall for a while. Just in case Tony deserved that. They feel from my eyes one after the other, blurring everything in front of me into a stained glass window of the living room. I covered my face and began sobbing uncontrollably. My “dad” came over to me and wrapped me in arms that felt foreign to me now. I buried my head in his chest, pretending it was real. Knowing it never will be again. After a little while, he held my head in his hands and wiped my tears away from my eyes. I looked into his eyes as deeply as I could.

I couldn’t help but to only notice our differences.