Mia's Gift

It was a cold and wet afternoon as Paul’s tears mixed with the drops of rain that was lightly pattering his face and rolling down his cheeks. His hand gingerly flowed over the contours of the rugged black granite of the small upright monument that was on the grave of his fiancee-Mia's final resting place. This was Mia’s family’s monument and he thought that they would not be using it for many years. The feeling of the cold lifeless granite was a stark contrast to the memory of Mia, her tender skin, her soft cheeks, her long wispy lashes, her scent. That scent he called home which was a mixture of lavender soap that she loved and her favorite perfume Chanel No. 5.

His mind races back to that fateful evening, trying to calm himself and second guess if there was anything that he could have done differently? That evening Mia had taken their beloved labradoodle “Halo” out for this walk. Paul had just settled into his favorite chair to read a book, when he heard the screech of tires, a woman’s mumbled cry and a car hitting a pole. He ran out the door and not more than 200 feet from his home, he saw the crumpled body of his beloved on her side. Halo was licking her outstretched hand, the same way he does every morning, as she lay there. Paul reached out and grabbed her hand and felt her heartbeat slowly fade away. He folded her body into his and hugged their last everlasting embrace, as her body went limp.

“Call 911”, he screamed through tears to the driver of the car who approached him. “I’m sorry man,” the driver paced nervously, “she just bolted after your dog, I didn’t see her, it was dark, forgive me”. He slouched into his guilt.

The house that he shared, no longer a home, Paul sitting quietly in the living room as he held the little black notebook of Mia’s poetry. He remembered how they would crack open a bottle of Shiraz and sit on the 3rd floor of their fire escape in their brownstone and watch the city lights in the distance. Mia would get reflective and grab a pen, twirl her long brown hair through her fingers, and start asking Paul, “What rhymes with heart, my beloved?.” She’d scribble things into her little black book, pause, with that reflective glare, knowing that she caught a phrase of emotion that she scribbled away to discover one day. Paul never read her poetry without her present, but that day in the living room he wanted to feel her warmth. He grabbed her book of poetry, and it opened to a worn page, and the words just flowed out in Mia’s voice.

“I look down at my bloody hands, my heart strewn on the floor

What could be there after you? I swear there’s nothing more.

The clothes you picked are saturated with my blood and tears

You were the one who opened my cage and cleared me of my fears

The goals you placed inside my heart feel worthless without you

I catch my eyes in the mirror and catch a glimpse of what is true

The gifts you saw, the beauty there. They were born with me.

I lift my head and stand up y’all and realize that I’m free

You only freed me from the cage that I created in my mind.

The truth is that it’s time for me to leave all doubt behind.

I will love and I will give the gifts I was born to give!

As I look back at myself from the mirror I realize I’ve always had the right to live.

I will do much more than that, I’ll empower others to thrive!

So beloved. I bow with thanks. I’m finally free and so alive.

If you’re reading these words with a broken heart, I encourage you to sing.

For the abyss within is a mere gate to your new life that shall begin. “

“Can you make it to the hospital for one o’clock? Christine wants to meet you when she awakes, she’s so excited to see you.”, is the text that dings on Paul’s phone from Dan, Christine’s husband. Paul hurries to the hospital nervously wondering about the operation and how Christine will be feeling. It doesn’t take long as he rounds the corner of the cardiac wing and he sees Dan standing in the waiting room with his mask and gown on. “Get these on”, as he hands Paul the same kind of hospital attire. “I’ll walk you to her room, she’s finally awake.”. As Paul is getting dressed he remembers the check. “Here Dan, something from Mia for you and Christine.” Dan opens it to see a check for $20,000 with his name on it. He starts to sob tears of joy. “It’s a small token to cover the surgery”, Paul utters. “I can’t believe how much you’ve given me Paul, you gave my family a new start, a new life,” Dan swipes his hand to remove the wetness from his eyes, crumpling the check in his nervous and thankful hands. “Don’t worry, it’s something that Mia would have wanted you to have. I didn’t even know about it, it came in the mail, an accident policy that she had filled out. I know she would have wanted you to have it, you need it now much more than I do,” Paul shared. They then hugged, enveloping themselves in the love that one could call unconditional. “I’m not just doing what Mia would want Dan, I’m also benefiting from this. I’ll get to hear Mia’s heart beat again, it’s a gift that no amount of money could buy.”

Paul walks into the recovery room as Christine is beaming, happy to see him. “Come closer” she mutters as she gestures to Dan to pick up their 6 year old daughter who was sitting on the bed and holding her hand. “Your selfless action gave my family hope and a new life,” she shares. “Can I hear Mia’s heart one more time?” Paul requests. Christine reaches out and holds Paul’s hand as his fingers find her veins, and lovingly grasps it in both hands. Ba bump, ba bump, the familiar rhythm of Mia’s heart softly beats in her new home. “My heart was broken Paul, now it’s opened a gate to a new life”, somehow unknowingly Christine reiterates those long forgotten words that Mia spoke in her poem. Paul just holds her hand lovingly and daydreams to the time that Mia was lying on his chest and whispering to him from her book of poetry, “so beloved leave all doubts behind, I’m finally free and so alive.”