Ana's Farm

I never really knew her. She may have been my mother, but she had been gone for many, many years. So, how have I found myself in this house, the only relative left, to do with what I will? Imagine my surprise when I get a phone call from a man I have never met, telling me she is no longer with us. My mother, someone I barely knew, left me everything she owned. Her house, twenty thousand dollars, and all her belongings. At least, that is what the lawyer said. It took me a week, but I have finally made it out here. My job has kept me so busy back in the city that I barely had time to do anything for myself. Although it was a pain to come out here, I am grateful for the break from the hustle and bustle back home.

The house is small, in the countryside, and clearly built a long time ago. Everything is covered in dust and the cold winter wind seems to be blowing through the walls as if they were not even there. I walk around the main room slowly, taking in what is left of this woman who gave me life, yet I know nothing about. The walls of the room are covered in blue flower wallpaper and wooden bookshelves. There is also a wooden rocking chair in the far corner with a matching side table near it. I walk over to one of the bookshelves and immediately, a little black book catches my eye. I take it from the shelf and run my hand down the dark leather until the dust from its surface falls to the ground. Opening the cover, the inside page bears my mother’s name: Amelia Cordette. Flipping to the next page, there is a date at the top of it from five years ago followed by a lengthy entry. This must be a journal of hers.

Today is the first day of my recovery. Too long have I suffered at the hands of others and too long have I been a victim. I will be writing down my progress here to help keep myself motivated. If only one day I will be enough to go and see my daughter again…

I stop reading after those first few sentences. So, she did think of me during all those years. I move to sit on the rocking chair in the corner while I read the journal. I skip a few pages to a date about a month after the first entry.

Today I fixed the windows in this old house. It has been getting colder lately so, I have to patch the holes in the walls soon too. I have not had any alcohol this whole month, an accomplishment I am proud to report to you. Staying away from the drugs is much harder than I thought though. I will not give up. Seeing my daughter is my goal…

Perhaps that is why she left our house all those years ago. I never knew she was struggling with a drug or alcohol addiction. For all these years I was so angry, but she only stayed away for the good of me and my father. I look over at the windows and notice the wood around the glass looks newer than the wood of the wall. There are some sections of the wall that seem to be newer wood as well. It is hard to tell though beneath the peeling wallpaper. I turn back to the little black book, flipping forward another few pages.

Today I bought some chickens. If I can sell their eggs to the neighbors, perhaps I can start saving some money. It will take a lot of money to travel to the city where my daughter lives. If I start saving now, I should be able to reach her in just a few years. She used to always talk about wanting to live on a farm when she was little. Once I get more animals and set this place up nice, I hope she will come stay with me here for a while...

I have not forgotten my dream of living on a farm and raising animals. It has just been so long that I have lived in the city that I have pushed that dream to the side for now. I can always get to that later in life, I am still young after all. I am surprised she remembered something like that though. I flip a good number of pages forward to a page dated just 2 years ago.

Today I am proud to celebrate my sobriety of 2 years. Although I have no one to celebrate with, I used the milk from the cows to make myself a little ice cream in celebration. I wish my daughter were here with me. She would love all the animals I have now. I just bought a piglet, which is the last thing I needed to complete my farm. I will be calling it Ana’s Farm, after my daughter. I have been making some more money off this place as well, selling wool, milk, eggs, fruit, vegetables, and anything else I can make myself. It is a quiet little life, but I have gotten great peace from living here…

I look out the front window for a moment and notice the sign hanging from the side of the house. I had seen it when I came in but did not read it. Now I see it has the words ‘Ana’s Farm’ engraved in the wood. How did I miss that before? Someone I barely knew thought about me as much as this. I flip to the last entry in the book, just three weeks ago it was.

I hope one day my daughter will be able to come to this place. Ana’s Farm has come a long way since I first started it all those years ago. Perhaps one day she will come here and be able to call this place home, as I do. I have the money to visit her but somehow, I am scared. What if she does not want to see me? I can proudly say I cleaned myself up and have a stable living here so, what am I afraid of? I can still remember my little Ana running around the house drawing all over the walls, the only way to stop her was to bribe her with a trip to the zoo. Her face would light up and she would promise to do anything I asked. I miss my little Ana…

I stop reading as tears begin to sting my eyes. She did all of this for me and I never even tried to find her in all those years. I take the check out of my bag for the $20,000 the lawyer gave me as my inheritance and look at it. My gaze soon turns out the window as I see a small sheep walking past. I put the check on the table next to me and stand, book in hand, to go explore my new home. It looks like Ana’s Farm is due for a little fixing up about now. I would say $20,000 should about do it.