The Reconciliation

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I couldn't believe we've let this place go so bad.

Three graduate students sharing a small campus apartment. Clothes strewn everywhere.

"Please help me pick this place up J.D.!" I shouted as I scrambled to pick things up. "She'll be here in an hour."

J.D., or Jessica Dianne Morgan, had been my friend since grade school. We got our bachelor's degrees from colleges across the country from one another and lost touch. That was until orientation a year ago. She was an up-and-coming law student, everybody's sweetheart. It was her idea to be roommates. It worked out pretty well, except we, and our other roommate, the usually missing Sarah Weisberg, and engineering student, were, to put it bluntly, slobs.

Which didn't bother us. I'm an archeology student. We all study all the time. And when we're not studying, we're usually tutoring. Or spending time with boyfriends, what limited time we had for them.

But now, I really wanted to get this place in some type of order.

"Where do you want this to go Liz?" J.D. said as she carried a load of books down the hall.

"Anywhere, anywhere," I said. "We just need to clean this place up a little before my mother gets here."

"I really can't believe she's coming," J.D. said. "How long has it been since you've seen her?"

"Not since Colleen's funeral," I said.

"Wow, nearly two years!" she said.

It had been a long two years. Taht was the last time I saw mom, well anybody in my family. Things didn't go too well. How would you like to be totally unwelcome at your own sister's funeral? If you hadn't figured things out by now, I am what one would call the black sheep of the family.

"So she called you right out of the blue?" J.D. asked. She was a bit nosy. I couldn't blame her. She knew things with my family hadn't been the same since I proudly announced shortly after my graduation from Ole Miss that their loving son and brother was going to become their loving daughter and sister.

Well that didn't go over too well. You could leave out the loving part. Shunned I was by everyone in my family except my grandmother Elizabeth and my sister Colleen. They were the only ones who visited me throughout my therapy sessions and treatments. My grandmother died before my operation, but Colleen was there to hold my hand at the clinic in Colorado.

It was all the strength I could muster to go to her funeral when she died from cancer, something she never knew she had until it was too late. I was kicked out of the funeral home and stood at a distance at the graveyard. That was the last I'd seen anyone in my family. I wrote letters to mom, but most got returned, except for maybe the last two.

The phone call announcing she was in Tuscaloosa, now that was a shock. Why was she here? She wasn't just in the neighborhood. Clara Staley doesn't just make a journey from Memphis by coincidence.

"Are you going to wear your ring?" J.D. asked.

I looked down at the engagement ring I'd been wearing since February, when Harry proposed. He was a medical student from UAB and a friend of Sarah's. Both of his parents were doctors. And did I mention they were of Indian descent? Oh, I can imagine Clara Staley's blood boiling...as if having a transgendered child wasn't enough.

We'd save that battle for another time.

"Sounds like she's here," J.D. said as we heard a knock on the door.

I looked through the peep hole. There she stood, looking like she'd stepped out of the movie "Steel Magnolias."

"Aren't you going to let your mother in?" she said as I opened the door.

"Come in mom," I said. "I have to admit, I'm a little surprised to see you."

"Does a mother need an excuse to come see her daughter?" she asked.

I looked at J.D. She had an amazed look on her face. She was as shocked as I was to hear the words daughter come out of my mother's mouth. Her folks new what my family thought of me.

"Why Jessica Dianne, what a pleasant surprise," mother said. "I know you're parents are happy to have you a little closer to home."

"Yeah, they weren't too thrilled when I was at Berkley," J.D. replied. "Sorry I can't stay and chat. I'm headed to the rec center to workout. Call me if you need me Liz."

"So they call you Liz now?" mom asked. "I knew you had taken your grandmother's name."

I nodded. I showed her around the small apartment before we found our way to the kitchen table and sat down.

"I must say they did good work," she said, and then explained she meant it as a compliment.

"How's dad?" I asked. I was at least interested in how the family was doing.

"He's still struggling with heart problems," she said. "He won't take his medicine or walk like he's supposed to."

She was right. Dad never really took care of himself.

"And Bob and Mike?" I asked. They were my brothers. Bob was the oldest and had a law practice in Memphis. He married into one of the wealthiest families in Memphis. Mike had just graduated from college.

"Mike's working at a brokerage firm in New York," mom said. "He likes big-city life, but I do worry about him. Mike, Ellie and the kids are doing fine."

I had two nieces and a nephew I'd never seen. They were kept at a distance at the funeral home and the graveyard.

"You know they would probably kill me if they knew I were here," she said.

"Well, why are you here?" I asked.

She at first said she really didn't know.

"You know, at first I blamed myself," she said. "If I didn't let you play with dolls, or if I didn't let you take ballet. Maybe you would have come out different."

"Oh come on mom," I said. "I played football. I played baseball."

I did lots of boys things. I tried to be the man that deep inside I knew I wasn't.

"I know, but a mother has to blame someone," she said. "Then I blamed you, hated you for what you've done to yourself, what you've done to your family."

What I've done to my family? They weren't the ones who'd been ostracized, shunned, spit at, you name.

"You think I wanted to choose this path?" I asked her.

"Elizabeth, I didn't come here to fight," she said.

I admitted I didn't want to fight, either. I actually told her I appreciated her calling me by my name, instead of the one given to me as a boy, Mark.

She admitted she had a hard time with that. She told me she mourned the loss of me as her son almost as much as she mourned Colleen's loss.

I couldn't help but wonder why this big change of heart. Then she pulled out a box with a necklace.

"It was wrapped when I found it in Colleen's apartment," she said. "She intended to give it to you as a birthday present."

She then pulled out a journal. I was stunned by its contents. Colleen chronicled my journey from her view point.

"I never knew the pain you went through," she said as she wept. She read aloud many of Colleen's entries of my frustrations, my triumphs...the times I confided in her. Her last entry came the day she entered the hospital for the last time.

"I hope mom realizes she has another daughter to comfort her, to share things with," were the last words Colleen wrote.

I have to admit, I was stunned, especially when mom admitted Colleen was right.

"I want to make things right, sweetie," she said as we hugged and cried. "You are the only daughter I have left."

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Comments

Bittersweet

jengrl's picture

How bittersweet that it took the death of one daughter to realize you had two. Reading the journal really brought it home to Elizabeth's mother. It would be great if her siblings could read the journal, but seeing as how they are so called macho men I doubt it will happen.

PICT0013_1_0.jpg

Wow!

Quite the poignant little vignette!

Okay, so it's not technically a vignette. It's very definitely a short story, but it's got the feel of a single scene that just knocks your socks off.

Well done Torey! You wrote

Well done Torey! You wrote this so well I'm having trouble not hating the mother, even though she's trying to change! Which is cool, just way later than it should have been. Anyway, great story! Is this ending here or will there be more? It's great either way. :)

Saless
 


"But it is also tradition that times *must* and always do change, my friend." - Eddie Murphy, Coming To America


"But it is also tradition that times *must* and always do change, my friend." - Eddie Murphy, Coming To America

Lovely tale

Sometimes we can only appreciate things when seen through another's eyes. This relly brings that home. Thank you. - Jay
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
That which does not kill me only serves to delay the inevitable. My blog => http://jaym.angelblogs.co.uk/

That which does not kill me only serves to delay the inevitable. My blog => http://jaynemorose.wordpress.com/ <= note new address

Very nicely done and just

Very nicely done and just the right length.

Writing short stories is a difficult art and this shows that you have the talent and the skills to pull it off.

Janice

*cries a little*

Thank you!

-Liz

-Liz

Successor to the LToC
Formerly known as "momonoimoto"

Now for the rest of the family

RAMI
Now that mom has come around somewhat, perhaps she can get the rest of the family to accept the change if not fully, at least to the point that she is not ostracized.

Great story

RAMI

RAMI

Best Of All, Torey,

This story takes place in one of the most conservative thinking areas of the nation. I live here, and if you are T.G., unless your friens support you, hide .

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Compactness Personified

Surprising how much feeling one can express in such a short yet complete tale. Pretty good. Well done.

Briar

Briar

This is a powerful tale that

This is a powerful tale that is elegantly written. You have reconfirmed the adage that sometimes "less is more."

Somethink I long for

This was heart rending. I am thankful it was not longer. It is something that I most certainly would love to hear. I know that many of the rest of us would too. Sadly, it is not going to happen and I can not stand with bated breath waiting for it. Time after time I have looked for a relief assignment overseas that was dangerous enough that I would not return. Finally given up on that; gonna have to ride it out, I guess.

Gosh, my head will ring for hours after this. Good job

Khadija

Very well done

A short powerful piece of writing. I had no problem picturing the scene and even though it was brief all the personalities had very clear voices. Well done!

hugs!

grover

All I Can Do

joannebarbarella's picture

Is vote, because all the others have said what I wanted to say,
Joanne

I hope mom realizes she has another daughter to comfort her...

Andrea Lena's picture

... to share things with," were the last words Colleen wrote.May all our families accept us for who we are. This was lovely. Thank you!

She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Oh mom...

...if only our gift on this day would be the love of all others.

Your Brat

Just beautiful,

ALISON

'Torey.I have just read this and "Forever Claire" and loved both.You put your stories together very cleverly and they
are a joy to read.Thank you so much.

ALISON

I found the best part of this story?

Feeling the heart of the writer! Sad that loss so frequently precipitates our appreciation of what we have. Excellent story! Thank you! Annie

The mother hasn't accepted anything

Angharad's picture

She's still seeing things from her point of view, that's not acceptance it's minimal tolerance. She'd be no great loss.

Angharad