Thursday, October 28, 2010

Return but never Leave

Mother: Hija (daughter), what a surprise to see you again after so many months, though time has a way of behaving differently with us here.

Daughter: Mamá, I would have come sooner, but after I got off the plane I wanted, without planning it until I landed in New York City, to visit my old elementary school in Elmhurst, New York. The trip to NYC in the spring is a delight after having spent years away. The dogwood trees, the cheery blossoms and the tulips were in bloom just minutes away from the airport terminal.

Mother: Tell me about yourself. Have you eaten? I could fix some chicken I have in the refrigerator? Or we could wait for the others to arrive.

Daughter: I’m glad that we’re alone, though papá is here with us, yet not here. You know that 15 minutes after leaving, he’ll wonder about the identity of the woman who had just left his home. I’ll have to look in on him when he’s better. I have something difficult to tell you about what happened to me hours before I boarded the plane.

Mother: Hija mía (daughter of mine), I hope it wasn’t anything serious; you seem to be more composed than you’ve ever been.

Daughter: No, mamá. Nothing like that! But hours before, as I was finishing packing, I get a call from Ulyses. I hadn’t spoken to him in months and I hadn’t seen him in two years and he just happened to be in town on business. He wanted to see me. Not having much time, yet not wanting to offend him, and myself, in a way, we met for dinner. It was incredible seeing him again, but I was unsure of what to say. As we embraced in the Five Corners Shopping Mall, he said, "how good you were to me years ago." It was good to hear him say that, but he said it so quickly and the street was so noisy, that I asked him to repeat it, but he smiled and said that he was sure I had understood. So I decided that I not volunteer any information unless it came out naturally. There are things I have never told him, that I must tell him someday, but how to do it is the problem.

Mother: Mi vida, but isn’t that the man you were involved with years ago with the wife and two boys? I thought you had decided not to see him anymore.

Daughter: He disappeared, as did I, from my life—our lives—but now that he’s single he wants to see me again. So I met him, gladly, but at the same time I was apprehensive. I hadn’t dated anyone for what seemed like years, and it was so nice to see someone who genuinely was glad to see me and who remembered me from a time when I was younger. I know, I’m still young to you, but I feel I’ve aged because of my state of my mind in the last two years. He, however, told me I looked younger. I was so glad to see him that I believed him and didn’t doubt his sincerity.

Mother: What did you talk about? Where did you go?

Daughter: We dined at Tropics, which is a restaurant that seems to exist in a world all its own, & we remembered when we used to go there on Saturday nights when we were still together. Before we said goodbye, I was sitting in his car and he asked me if he could kiss me for old times’ sake. Not to tell you too much; you’re my mamá and I can’t tell you anymore details, but I will say that I’m not totally happy with the way things turned out.

Mother: Oh, I see. Well, you don’t have to say too much. I, um, guess the same thing probably happened to me before I met your father, but, of course, I have blissfully forgotten it.

Daughter: Mamá, I thought I had changed. I thought that we could talk and leave it at that, but when he said goodbye four hours later, I was both glad we had spent so much time together, but I felt frustrated, too. That sort of thing had not happened to me, even after dates with well-to-do, and educated, Cuban-American men I had met through my work in the arts in Miami, Florida. But with Ulyses, a simple, but good and kind-hearted man, the temptation was, well, not overpowering, but almost natural.

Mother: Well, it’s not an easy life being a Christian woman when things don’t go the way they’re supposed to go. Did anything good come out of all of this?

Daughter: I was both happy and secretly disappointed with myself for not having made different decisions, but though I was unsure of what I was about to do before he left, I did it anyway, in case, through some odd turn of events, this was the last time I’d ever see him.

Mother: I hope it was not what you used to do when you were just out of college?

Daughter: Yes, I’m a funny girl, but I am who I am. I’m both a person with a deep desire for spiritual things, yet, at times, I do things I would rather not have done once I’ve done them. Though I wasn’t sure of the soundness of what I was planning, I told Ulyses that when I found this book in Spanish in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, last year, I thought of him, and how I'd love to give it to him to read some day.

Mother: That’s very odd, hija. To give a man you’ve just has intimate relations with, especially one who used to be married when you were previously involved with him, to give him that book! I can see your interest in him in the long run, especially, as you say, if that was the last time you’d ever see each other again, but I don’t think many people would believe your sincerity or whether you did the right thing half an hour after you were alone with him. Maybe you should have just said goodbye and read the book yourself. You might benefit from reading that book yourself, it seems to me. Sorry for saying so. What if he reads the book and then wonders about how it came into his possession months or years from now? Don’t you think that might counteract the entire purpose of the book?

Daughter: But, mamá, didn’t you once tell me that an old boyfriend of yours, years before you met papa, was the one who introduced you to Christ, though he himself later left the church, while you’re still in it? The thought went through my mind, as I was unsure whether it was the wise thing to do. But I went ahead and told him, that this book has been in my possession, not that copy, but the title, since I was 16 and it’s given me more joy and hope than I could ever have had without it. I wanted so very badly to give him the book. I told him that I hoped he would like it, and of course, if it was not intended for him, well, to just “pass it on,” as they say.

Mother: So, he wasn’t surprised by the title? Did he question your intentions? I can’t imagine what that’s like. That kind of thing is never done and especially not talked about.

Daughter: Ulyses thanked me and looked at the title and assured me that he was touched that I would think of him months before I actually gave him this book with the hope that if I saw him again, I’d place it in his hand.

Mother: Well, mi hija, I hope it does him some good, or give it away without reading it himself. And I hope you did the right thing. I wouldn’t have done such a thing. Some would say you did a bad thing in giving him that book, only an hour after having been alone with him. I wonder if anyone has ever done a similar thing? How many people would even confide in other people that such things happen in life? But, I hope things work out well for him. More importantly, I hope you find the happiness and solutions to the challenges you face as a single woman, living in a city far from any family.

Daughter: Yes, mamá, I hope he finds what he needs or wants in his life and I hope he always remembers me as the woman who one day, perhaps foolishly, gave him his first, of many editions, of Steps to Christ.

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