The Dreamer ✓

Letter 23

NO.23; A LETTER TO SOMEONE YOU WANT TO GIVE A SECOND CHANCE

APRIL 2nd, 2014

Dear Dad,

I found you looking at a picture of Mum today. I imagine if sorrow could manifest into a person, it would be you. You looked like its very definition.

I didn't mean to walk in you, I know it was a private moment, something you only allowed yourself to wallow in once in a blue moon but it was a mistake. I'd been searching for the cheese grater since I wanted to make myself a ham sandwich but it was nowhere to be found. I asked Evelyn if she knew where it was and she said you were the last one to use it. So, that's why I went up to your room.

"Hey, Dad," I began as I walked into your bedroom, "have you seen the cheese grater? I want to -"

I paused at the sight of you sitting stiffly at the edge of the bed, holding a picture in your hands but if it was the look on your face that made me freeze. It was dark and lost like you had stumbled back into a storm you thought had passed long ago. I felt cracks snapping into my heart.

"Dad?" I said it softer this time as I stepped further into your room. I was close enough to see the picture holding your attention. My breath stuttered in my throat when I saw it was a picture of Mum. The wear and tear told me it was an old photograph.

She was in a park with two other women but I knew it was her. I could spot Mum in a sea of a thousand people. She looked younger than I'd ever seen her. Young and enchanting and so much like Evelyn, it was jarring. A picnic basket sat before the three of them. I recognised one of the women as Aunt Mala, Mum's older sister. Aunt Mala lay on her side and gave the camera a shining grin whilst the other woman was content with a simple somewhat timid smile.

Mum sat between them on a large blanket with a can of cider in her hands. Her dark hair wasn't in braids or the long wavy style I was so used to. It was cut short in a sharp pixie bob that made her look like she belonged to a rebel group. Behind her lay the city, tall buildings stretched past the bushes and blossoming trees. She wasn't really looking at the camera, she'd turned slightly to the right and there was the hint of smile on her lips as stared at something in the distance. She was beautiful. The camera had captured her in a moment of perfect youth and I could see why you had fallen so madly in love with her.

"Picnics were her favourite thing to do in summer," you said, your voice suddenly cut through the silence. It made me jolt in surprise. "She dragged me, your aunt and her friend out to the park near the University of Cape Town. She said it was too beautiful of a day to stay inside." You huffed out a laugh, "I was supposed to be getting the food out of the picnic basket but she just looked so...so beautiful, I had to take a picture."

I didn't know what to say for a few moments because you hadn't talked about Mum since the funeral. She remained an unspoken presence in our house for years. Jasmin had felt it when she first arrived and she'd been trying her best to work her through it. I think by now she used to it, used to the everlasting shadow of Mum floating in the background.

"How...how old is she here?" I asked once I'd gotten over my initial surprise.

"Twenty-two," he said, he turned the picture over and read out the date scrawled on the back in black pen. "Thursday, March 31st, 1988." You flipped it back over, your eyes scanned the picture like you were searching for something. "This picture was taken about two years before I proposed to her and five years before Evelyn was born. We'd only been dating for a year and a half but I knew then, just like how I know now, I loved her very much."