Page 44 of Fall
15
Natalia
This can’t be real.
A stare at the outside of the polished box that has sealed in my mother’s message to me for over a decade. Trying to unbundle what I feel is impossible. I feel every emotion. Excitement, joy, hesitation, fear, anger, grief, resentment.It’s all there, in a massive wave that crashes over me over and over again, taking me in more than one direction.
I feel so much.
Yet I’m numb from disbelief.
My mother meant for me to have this after my eighteenth birthday. How exactly am I supposed to feel?
Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I look for something nearby that would open it. I find a metal nail filein my vanity dresser drawer, wondering if there are pictures of her that I haven’t seen too. Or if the letters are handwritten. They must be, but I don’t remember what her handwriting was like. With shaky hands, I slide it over the clear plastic tape around the edges, afraid of what I’ll find inside.
As I lift the unsealed box open, I’m overwhelmed, overtaken with the loss all over again.There’s a thick stack of loose papers, each one neatly folded in half. There are pictures too, and coins. Like information overload, I feel paralyzed, not knowing what to read first, or whether to read them at all.
But as I reach in and pick up the first letter, all that fear leaves me. My mother meant for me to have this. So goddamn it, I’m going to read every single handwritten word.
To My Beautiful Unborn Baby
The day I learned I was pregnant, I felt so lucky. It was a blessing to know that I would one day have the title of mother. I was so thrilled that on that very day, I decided to write this letter to you, by hand, and to make you a promise.
You see, I never knew my mother, your maternal Nonna. She made the ultimate sacrifice.For me. She held on for as long as she could, but passed away on the day she had me.
I still believe I’m lucky to have had her love, even though I never met her. My father, your Nonno, and her parents, your Bisnonno and Bisnonna, told me every story about her that they could remember. All I had of my mother was her family crest, some of her belongings, and those memories they shared withme. It’s the stories of how she lived her life that I hold closest to my heart.
I will confess that I’m also a little scared today. Terrified, to be truthful. I didn’t meet my mother, but I’m praying that I will not have the same fate, that God will allow me the honor of meeting you in person, and that I’ll have a long, long life with you.
Sadly though, a long life is not a guarantee.
Sometimes, we don’t receive all the things we most yearn for.
This is the reason that for every week that you’re in my belly, I will write you one letter. Each letter will include something about you and one thing I remember about me. My dreams and goals, my hobbies and pet peeves, funny stories from my childhood, what I’ve learned through the years about my family history, andall the things that make me who I am. Because one way or another, I promise you, you will know more about me than I knew about my mom.
With love,
Your Mother
To My Baby - Letter One
Hello, sweet pea!
According to my doctor, I’m about six weeks pregnant. That means you’re already about the size of a little pea.Doc says that I should expect to feel a little hormonal any day now, but I’m doing great.
As I write you this letter, I’m reminded about one random yet exciting memory from my childhood.
The couple in the house down the road from where I grew up had a boy named Andy, and beside them, there was a girl named Lily. Lily, Andy and I were best of friends. Back then, as I was the youngestand my Nonna wouldn’t let me out of her sight, their parents would send them to my house to play sometimes. Lily brought her favorite doll, and Andy always had a bright red fire truck.
One day, we were playing, and saw something on TV about time capsules. I think I was about nine years old. We thought it would be fun to bury our own time capsule in the backyard, so they ran home and cameback with an item to put inside. Andy brought a set of Lego blocks he assembled into a fire truck. Lily brought one of her doll’s dresses that she had accidentally ripped along one side seam. I took the little red bow tie that was buttoned around the neck of my favorite Teddy bear, Mr. Giggles.
We took turns digging a hole between the raised roots of the large red oak tree at the cornerof the grounds. I remember we did a three-way pinky swear promise that in thirty years to the day, we would meet at my house and dig up our time capsule. I was walking by the red oak tree the other day.
Oh, you should know that your father and I rebuilt the home you'll grow up in on the same property where I grew up. That means you'll probably play very close to where we buried the timecapsule.
Another thing I should mention is that my father, your Nonno, found us while we were digging the hole. He thought it was interesting that we had managed to dig a hole so deep. He said that secrets were the only things people buried deeper than our hole. I never understood what that meant until now…
That does remind me… one of these letters will explain more about ourfamily history. It’s complicated and probably somewhat messy, but many families are like that. Not all, but a lot of them.
