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- 03/18/2021
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Home - 44. Chapter 44
Over the next few weeks, Frank seemed to be adjusting to being without his mother. But it was a mirage. Vic told us he could hear Frank crying at night.
“Amalia, when I was young and had a problem, my mother would come into my room at night and sit on my bed, we would talk, and eventually, I would get around telling her what was bothering me. I hug the children when they go to bed, but you might want to visit them and tuck them in. What do you think?”
“My parents always just gave me a hug when I went to bed. Maybe what you suggest might be a good idea. Are you suggesting this because of Frank?”
“Yes, in a way, I guess I am.” I didn’t tell Amalia about asking my night visitors to help Frank’s mother visit him in his dreams.
The next night, when the children were in bed, Amalia and I went to their rooms. At first, they were surprised, and I think they thought they were in trouble. We sat on their bed. Amalia told them that we wanted to tell them good night and give them an extra hug to have good dreams.
When we enter Frank’s room, he had his back to us and was sobbing. I pointed at a spot on the bed for Amalia to sit. When she did, Frank turned over and, seeing Amalia, put his arms out as if he wanted a hug. I watched Amalia pull him into a hug and kissed him on his head. I watched, and my eyes were glassy.
After a few minutes, Frank stopped sobbing. “Amalia, I think he has fallen asleep.”
She looked, and he had fallen asleep in her arms. If I ever needed to convince Amalia about our new nightly routine, I would only mentioned Frank’s response.
Over the next few nights, the children would tell us about their day and sometimes questions that had bothered them. It was a one-on-one time, and they came to look forward to our visits. I think we came to look forward to those times as well.
About two weeks after we started these ‘tuck-ins, Frank told us his mother came to him in a dream. She held him in her arms and sang to him as she did when she was alive. From that moment on, Frank became more outgoing, the boy I remembered when I first met him.
When my visitors came at night, I would mention Frank’s mother and could they see a way to have her go to him in his dreams. Tonight, I thanked them.
We still visited Frank’s mother every Sunday after Mass. I always had flowers for her, and we would sit and watch Frank as he talked to his mom.
One Sunday after her visits in his dream started, “Mom said instead of buying flowers, we could plant some flowers on her resting place.”
“Did she say what kind of flowers she would like?”
“In the woods behind our house, there was a flower that she liked. If we go there, maybe I could dig it up and then plant it for Mom.”
Saturday, I drove Frank and Vic to his old house. Only there wasn’t a house there anymore. “Dad, what happened to the house?”
“The county came and took it away because they didn’t pay the taxes on the property.”
“Can they do that?”
“Yes, if the taxes aren’t paid, they can come and take away everything to pay for the taxes. I think that the taxes on this property hadn’t been paid for a few years.” I didn’t need for him to know about Frank’s grandfather.
Taking a shovel from the trunk, we followed Frank into the woods behind where his home once stood. I was amazed as I saw the field of daffodils. We marked off an area, and I began to dig several plants free of their soil base. As the plants became free, Frank, and soon Vic, began to gather them. When Frank said that was enough, we took them to the car, and I drove to the cemetery where we planted the flowers. I told Vic to go and get some water from the church’s outdoor faucet so Frank could water the plants.
I watched Frank as he planted the flowers. He would plant a flower and ask his mother if this was okay. In his mind, he was having a conversation with his mother, and for all I knew, he could have been seeing his mother and talking to her. After I had experienced my grandfathers and Nonna at night, I believe anything is possible where love and family are involved.
When Frank was done, we sat on the bench, looking at the flowers. “My mother said she liked the flowers. They reminded her of our home and me when we lived there.”
With my arm around his shoulder, “Yes, you did a good job planting those flowers. I think your mother is very happy.”
We sat there for almost an hour when Vic said we should go. The animals needed to be fed, and he was hungry as well. I walked them to the car with my arm around each of them. They had to pretend to stumble several times, and then they would laugh.
Sunday dinner was especially nice, I had gone to the florists and bought a bouquet of mixed flowers, and there were several daffodils among the bouquet. I noticed Frank looking at the flowers with a faraway look. I thought his mother must have had a bouquet like this. When he looked at me, he smiled.
When dinner was over, Brad excused himself. He came back with a bundle. “Frank, would you share what I have with Vic?”
I’m sure Frank didn’t know what Brad had until we heard a yelp. When Brad dropped the cloth on Frank’s lap, Frank couldn’t keep the cloth together, and we saw the puppy.
Tom, not to be undone, brought another puppy for Vic. Brad said there were brothers from the same litter. If there was any doubt in Frank’s mind about Vic being his brother, it was dispelled at the dinner table. As expected, the boys had to play with their puppies, and for all purposes, dinner was over.
That night as we made the rounds, the girls said they didn’t want a pet. Vic and Frank said they could play with their dogs. For a minute, I thought they might have wanted an animal also. Walking into the boys’ rooms, they each had their dog in bed with them. That was until Amalia told them if the dog wet the bed, they would have two sleep in a wet bed. I went and got two cardboard boxes from the storage shed, added old blankets from the apartment before the boys moved in, took each box to the boy’s room. “For your pets.”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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