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Island Greetings

Dear Mom:

I am writing in my ratty bathrobe in front of the wood stove wondering what old movie to watch alone on New Year's Eve. I could have made plans but I didn't. Chloe is eighteen now, she has plans of her own- she no longer wants to watch Disney movies and eat hot buttered popcorn on the couch with her mom these days. I wish you could have met her. She reminds me of you; strong-willed yet able to make a healthy meal from scratch. I also wish you could have met her dad. He's a keeper, although sometimes I wish I had you to warn me what it would be like to raise a family with someone who works away from home so much. He is never home for holidays. Which is why I am sitting here. Feeling melancholy. I may watch Bell Book and Candle again because it reminds me of my youth. Of watching episodes of Bewitched alone in the den while I waited for you to come home from work at the local bank. I suppose it wasn't easy for you to raise us on your own. Although I don't blame you for kicking him out. I could never tolerate a cheating man, but I suppose I have tolerated a drinking man. I miss you at odd times. Even though we fought so much, I was only twenty-three after all- when you died so swiftly from cancer. It caught me off guard. So here I am thinking of you in my cabin in the rainy woods, waiting for my West Coast urchin diver husband to call from the boat. What I want to tell you is, I understand now, how hard it was, your bitterness. Love from too far away - your daughter.

Story by:

Margot Fedoruk

3 January 2018