One month earlier . . .“Who is that Kyra,” asked Emy.
“It’s me and this one here is Grand,” said Kyra, taking the sketches back, her eyes as distant and misty as an October morning on the lake. Emy was the first one onboard to see these drawings. After Emy had shared her portfolio and so much of her life, Kyra felt the need to reciprocate.
“I don’t mean to pry, but I sense there is more to these sketches than just someone doodling away the time,” said Emy.
Kyra looked up. Her eyes vacant. Her mind elsewhere.
“I’m sorry Kyra, it’s really none of my business.”
“My sister drew them. In hospital. She was six,” said Kyra.
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“She was quite a few years younger than me. A ball of optimistic energy. I often pray that I might have half as much courage as she did.”
Emy couldn’t bring herself to ask but her eyes clearly showed she wanted to know more.
“I never cried so much in all my life. First time I ever saw Papa cry too. Sometimes we take more than we give. That little girl was just the opposite. A larger heart I have never seen. Even toward the end, she gave more than we could ever give back. Doctors said there was nothing they could do. We knew from birth. The defect was ticking. No one expected her to live more than a couple years, but she made it six. Perhaps she knew. Perhaps she was an angel in our midst, a gift to teach us how to live, how to give, how to love. How do you repay that?”
Emy sat stunned, not knowing what to say.
“It’s okay Emy. She lives. In these images. In my mind. But most of all, she lives in every fiber of my heart. You know what she told me in those last days? Emy, do you know what that little girl said?”
“I have no idea,” whispered Emy, trying to hold back her own tears.
“In her last days, when her voice could hardly be heard and we had to lean over to hear her speak, she called me close. She said, I love you Kyra. I love you with all my heart. You have been the best sister in the whole world and I have been the luckiest little girl to have had you for my big sister. And then . . .”
“And then what?” asked Emy.
“And then I started to cry and she told me my tears were like water. I asked her what she meant and she said just as Papa nourished his flowers with water, that my tears nourished her. She was six years old Emy. How does that come from a six year old? Can you tell me? How?”
Emy was speechless again.
“Then she said she had something for me. And she pulled out these two drawings. I started crying again and she looked up at me and said, Kyra, please hold my hands. So I did. And she smiled as only children smile. And she whispered, When you go to sleep at night and close your eyes, think of me and I will be there, always, forever because I love you Kyra and no thing, no person, not even this illness will keep me from living in your heart. That was the last time I saw her alive. She passed in the night.
Emy opened her arms and the two embraced and they cried.
“She was the blessed one Emy. She was the giver. And she was only six.”
Categories: Story, Kyra, Emy, Paintings
20 comments:
This chapter has been in my mind since the middle of March. Just never had the heart to write it before.
This is Chapter 150 in the story. I hope it's one to remember.
Thanks so much to so many of you for reading and following the saga. Your readership has meant the world to me.
My eyes make it hard to type because I can't see from the tears. I'll remember this always. You know exactly the meaning of six. You ARE six. You are tea and cookies. You are Kyra's heart.
You are a gift.
Liz, I owe as much to you for bringing this chapter to life as anyone. You showed me what was possible. I saw with your eyes and I typed with your heart. You are my teacher and I am trying hard to be six again. Thank you so much my friend. Now all this typing is making me hungry so excuse me while I endulge in some tea and cookies.
This one is certainly one to remember. A real tear jerker. Very very well done.
Thank you Jenni. Writing this chapter brought me closer to tears than even the chapter with Kyra at the window of the Iso Ward. Thanks for being such a loyal reader. You've been along for the ride the whole way. :-)
Okay, I cheated and read the comments before I read the story.... I'm about to take the plunge. Can't hardly stand to... I'm stocking up on Kleenex first...
Wow, a beautifully written, touching chapter Trée.
Tears are falling from my eyes, that was beautiful! It is definitely one to remember, thank you!
*BIG HUGS* to you and Jack, because you deserve them after writing that.
Terry, Deb and Karen, thanks for the comments. I've read and reread this chapter several times since last night and it just isn't getting old.
By way of background, which I probably should and might put into an audio commentary, the emotional undercurrent in this piece comes from real life and last night, that undercurrent was very fresh in my mind. This chapter gave me the chance to bleed some of that emotion from my heart to this blog and for that reason, the very personal nature of this post for me, I think this one will always have a very special place in my heart within the story as a whole.
That would be cool - email me if you do and audio :-)
Will do Karen. I'm leaning toward not simply because I think some things should remain private but then again, I could change my mind. But, I'll let you know if I do.
When you write about losing somebody, it touches anyone who has walked down that path. Which means just about everyone. Your simple but poignant dialogue can't be read without the reader being transported to that very same place of emotion. Happy or sad, it is good to feel. Thank you Trée.
Terry, I couldn't agree more. I have often thought that I would rather feel pain and suffering than to feel nothing; and sometimes, you just want to feel sad, you want to feel the heavy emotions, to feel the full range of human expression. Don't ask me why, but that has been my experience.
I have also worked hard and continue to work to stop resisting and labeling emotions as good and bad but to welcome them all the same. Some days I do better than others.
Tre I miss ya!
Keshi.
Hey Keshi. Since I moved to the beta version of blogger I can no longer comment on non-beta blogs except as Anon and since you have Anon comments turned off I'm in read only mode on your blog. Hopefully blogger will sort this out. Really wanted to leave you a comment today. I liked your post very much today.
Wish I hadn't read the comments before leaving my own, cannot help but be influenced by some of what you wrote in your responses. Loved this one for the concept of old souls and age not always being a factor in how much insight a person can have. One might not think a child could think those thoughts, or feel those feelings or utter those words, but we see it time and time again, we are surprised. The drawings give it realism somehow, very real is how it feels, and after reading your comments, I have to guess that is because what you are writing is especially close to your heart and it therefore reaches forth so strongly. Was quite heartbreaking to read, to read how the things that little girl said made Kyra feel, how she remembers her, the legacy that she left though she has been gone a long time, you captured that so very well, brings a very large lump to my throat just thinking about the chapter still now. Wonderfully done.
And 150! Wow!
Thank you for each and every one of those :-)
Autumn, xo
Sweetest, always so good to see you posting a comment. I treasure each and every one.
This chapter is educated on several levels by C and who he is and my relationship with him over the twelve some-odd years of his life. The night this was written, I had a lot of emotion running through me with some events that had occured the night before that cast a light over the underlying nature of our relationship--both good and not so good. I'm not ready to go into further detail because it's personal and because it would not be fair to C to read such things in a public forum. Perhaps one day I'll say more on this topic.
Thanks so much for being so encouraging with this story from the very first chapter. You have never wavered in your support and that is never far from my mind when I am writing.
The Gang :-)
Still beautifully written, Tree. I cried again.
Thank you Liz. The fact that you have come back and reread this post and commented a second time says so much to me. Thank you very much for being you and thank you very much for that incredible post today. Feel free to use any image you see me post at any time. If you go to my web album (on my sidebar with all the pics I used for the story) I think you can download those and perhaps get a slightly larger and better version for posting.
Have a great weekend Liz. :-)
It has been a great and much loved feature of The Story the way in which you sometimes, often times, would home in on one character, telling something of their personal story, how chapters can take place in the past and future as well as the present, how the mood and pace can change significantly from one chapter to the next and still they are weaved so seamlessly into each other. To begin with the seed that was the CC fractal, to the seedling that was the CC post to the magnificent body of work that continues to expand so gloriously, this example is always going to be up there with the best of them when wanting to show the wonder and magnitude of what can rise to the surface when a person wholeheartedly allows themselves to be submerged, in creativity and inspiration.
I stopped here to spend a little more time with Papa. Whatever you water grows my dear sweet child. Water the love and joy and compassion in your heart and watch them grow. Likewise, water anger, bitterness and resentment, and they too will flourish. And the undiminished love between two sisters. This chapter, the messages within, it's significance in the future, this chapter as so very many others is unforgettable.
It is pure bliss to be floating around back here.
Post a Comment