Holly-First Draft

Holly

Driving down this road is the hardest thing that I have done in months.

It's 6:30 and the sun is just starting to go down. The sky is painted in bright colors, giving the world a glow so naturally beautiful that I believe almost nothing could ever compare.

"This is going to be such a beautiful night," I whisper to myself.

I turn up the radio in my car, and before I know it I have to force myself to pull over to the side of the road in a blur of uncontrollable tears. That song; It makes me cry every time. Those simple words are all together much too true. "There's just too much that time cannot erase." My mind slips once again into the past.

~

Once again I am sitting in the hospital. I recall this day like it was happening right in this moment. Once again I am listening to the news that forever changed my life.

At nine years old no child should have to hear the words, "I'm sorry, but you have cancer."

That day, and those six small words, broke my heart in a way nothing else possibly could.

"Mommy," Holly looked up at me and asked," What is cancer?"

My sweet baby girl; so innocent, so loving and more precious than I thought anyone ever could be to me. Her bouncy brown curls, her puppy dog eyes. The most beautiful girl and the most heart breaking confusion and terror in her eyes.

"Oh baby, it just means you’re sick. But the doctors are going to do everything they can to make you better."

"But mommy, I don't want to be sick anymore. Can't they just make it stop?" If only that was possible; If only it could be that simple. If they could just make her better in that moment, and I could take her home and never have to worry about what she was going to have to go through, and how frightened she would be. If only it were possible.

~

In my car I wipe the tears from my eyes. No more music, not tonight. I pull off the side of the road and continue on my way. The sky is darker now and the stars are coming out, giving the sky a shimmering glow. I take a left and go across a set of rail road tracks, drive up a small hill and down a gravel driveway. I come to a stop and park my car in front of the small white church. I turn the key and the engine of my car cuts off.

I sit for a moment in the church parking lot, staring at the white building and the tall metal cross that juts into the deepening blue of the night sky.

This moment once again takes me back. I remember the first day that I stepped into this church. I also recall the last.

~

My first time ever in a church was this one. I was homeless at the time. I was seventeen years old and living alone on the streets. I needed somewhere to spend the night. All I had with me was an old backpack, some cookies that an older woman gave me earlier that day and maybe two dollars and thirty cents in change in my pocket. Over all I was nothing special.

Two weeks before this I was living with my boyfriend. He was nineteen and a high school dropout. He was working in a grocery store during the day, and at night he was selling drugs to high school kids on some bridge in the middle of town. He made enough money to keep us in a small one room apartment and keep food on the table. But one night that all changed. It turned out that his “pull out and pray” routine for sex had run its course of luck and turned on him.

I was three weeks late for my period, so I went to a local CVS and got a home pregnancy test. The result, not the one I was hoping for. The test was positive.

“How am I going to break this to him?” I thought to myself. I didn’t know how he was going to take the news that I was pregnant and that he was the father. But soon enough he was home and I had to tell him.

“You stupid slut!” He yelled at me. “How could you go and get pregnant on me? Who else were you screwing? I know that kid isn’t mine. Go tell the real father you’re knocked up cause you were whoring around all the time.”

“But Tim, this baby is yours. I haven’t slept with anyone but you.” I yelled back at him. “This is your baby!”

         And that was when it all turned for the worst.

“Get out! Get out now! I never want to see your face again!” Then he grabbed me by the hair, dragged my through the small apartment and threw me against the door.

“Tim, please stop. You are the father of this baby. You know I have never had sex with anyone but you.” But it was already too late. He was raging through the rooms and in a matter of moments it was a disaster. He was going through the rooms and throwing everything of mine to the floor and at me. Clothes, shoes, books, my cell phone, he threw everything. And then he turned back on me, grabbed me by the throat and started yelling in my face.

“Do you see this Jenna?” He screamed.” Do you see what you have done? You only have yourself to blame for this.” Then he dragged me to the door, and tossed me sprawled out into the hallway and onto the cold fake wood floor. “Never come back.” He said, and then slammed the door. I never went back, and never dreamed of it. This child was all I had left.

For a while I was living on the streets. Steeling what I could, and begging for what I couldn’t. I was living in an ally for a few days when an older man, also homeless, came up to me and told me I should go to this church a few miles up the road. He said sometimes they leave their shed or basement unlocked and I could sneak in and sleep there. I figured it was worth a try.

Five o’clock the next evening I started to make my way to the church by directions the old man had given me. It took me nearly two hours to get there, but when I did it paid off more than I thought it would. As the old man had said the door to the basement had not been locked and I was easily able to find my way in.

The basement was a small one but it was cozy. There was a small couch with a pillow and a blanket draped over the back of it. It was comfy enough. For dinner I sat and ate my cookies. They were chocolate chip and a bit still, but they were able to hold my stomach and make me forget my hunger for a moment. Before long I was asleep on the couch and dreaming of a better life than this.

I awoke in the morning to another older gentleman. This one was clearly not homeless. He had a shock of white hair, and wore a grey suit that almost matched his eyes. It turned out that he was the pastor of the church.

After that my life was changed. I began going to church every Sunday, I got a job working at an antique store with a woman who also attended the church, and eventually I was able to get my own small apartment.

~

Sitting in the parking lot and remembering all of this from the past tugged a small grin to my face. So much had changed in my life, and I had this church and the people in it to thank for that.

I sit for a moment in silence and in the warmth of my car. I try to gain as much strength as I can through shallow breaths. Finally after a few moments I gain the courage to grab the door handle and fling the door open. The brisk air outside instantly comes in as a rush around me and with it brings the scent of autumn nights from the past.

I step out into the night; the trees seemed to whisper comforting thoughts through the gentle breeze. I look up into the now deep blue face of the night sky, the stars glittering and the moon seeming to smile on the world. The moon light filters through the tall tree branches above painting the ground in morbidly beautiful darkness. The branches sway and the leaves stir, falling in whirl winds to the ground, the colors so vividly and oddly bright in the dark night air.

This night brings me back to a time only a few short years ago.  My little Holly and I were trick-or-treating. It was a night just like this one. She was the cutest thing.

That year she decided that she was going to go as a lady bug. She wore a ladybug tutu dress. It was a red bodice with large red polka dots, black puffed up sleeves with red satin trim, and a red gathered tutu skirt. With it she wore bouncy antennas and of course the most adorable little wings. She was the most adorable girl out that night.

I start to walk to the back of the church, where the cemetery in the back comes into full view. The stone walls and metal gate rise above the ground. I have to stop and gather myself once again. I slowly make my way to the gate, and pass through for the first time in months. It is hard to see where I am going in the near dark but I soon find the angel marker I am looking for.

Holly Rae

1/5/1997 - 1/31/2007

I kneel down at the foot of the grave and just stare at the angel. She looks so much like my dear Holly. Bouncy curls, high cheek bones, a beauty beyond compare. I collapse to the cold hard ground and I cry into the grass.

Bile rises in my throat as I recall the day she passed. A frail little girl in a hospital bed, connected to machines. Her pail little body so small beneath the sheets. She had been in a coma for nearly eighteen hours, in which I never once left her side.

My innocent angel was taken away that day, and every moment since I have asked God why. I’ve never understood why she was taken from me, especially in the way she was.

But holly was not afraid. She would tell me, “Mommy, don’t worry. I am going to be okay.” And she would kiss me and hug me and tell me she loved me every day. She said, “God will keep me safe, you know that. Just trust he is doing the right thing.”

Now I must trust my daughter. Though she is gone from my arms she is still in my heart. My little sweet Holly, so happy and full of life till the last seconds slipped away. I know she is up in heaven now, dancing with the angels.

Someday I will be there too, with my dear sweet holly again.