Charlotte

14 // neither was he.

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14 // neither was he.

"Charlotte, your daughter is here to see you," Nurse Kendra said in a voice as calm as the sea.

My mothers head whipped in our direction and I wanted to tear up at the sight infront of me. Somehow from somewhere she had dug out her old easel and paint tools and was working on something beautiful from what I could see from where I stood.

"Come in dear," my mom smiled, standing up from her stool.

"How pretty you look, mom," I complimented her. I motioned to her fluffy purple robe and down to her matching slippers. I walked over and hugged her.

"Trust me, I look better than I feel," she chuckled as we held each other tighter in our embrace.

I laughed with her. "You don't know how happy I am to see you out of that bed! I'm even happier to see that you've been painting."

"Yes my dear," she sighed, lifting herself on to her stool. "For months I laid in that bed, looking out the window with the same view everyday. Finally, i'm strong enough to paint what I see. The buildings beyond the horizon, cars and people below...all of it."

I took a step closer and thoroughly examined her work of art. Each delicate stroke of blue that looked just like the sky outside and the tiny buildings below.

"You haven't lost your ability," I murmured.

"The artistic ability is in my soul. It's in your soul too," she chuckled, squeezing my hand. "It's something you don't lose; ever."

"I can see," I replied, my attention going back to her colorful canvas. "How long has it been since you last picked up a brush? Almost two years, right?"

"21 months," she corrected me. "So how has my daughter been?"

"I'm good," I nodded. "I actually really need your help, mom."

She looked at me curiously and began to laugh. And before I could ask her what was so funny, she buried her face in her hands and tiny sobs soon escaped the shield she had made with her hands.

"Mom?" I asked, concerned. I held on to my stomach as I attempted to get up from the bed but she held up one of her frail hands and I stayed in my place.

"What's wrong mom?"

She shook her head. "It's just been so long since you needed me for something. I've been relying on you for everything lately. You've been making such huge decisions for yourself and now you're asking me for my help. Don't mind me, dear. What was it that you were saying?"

I knew what she meant by huge decisions. I rubbed my stomach and began speaking. "The annual art showing is coming up in a couple of months at the art gallery. Not only do I want you to come along, but my boss has put me in charge of creating the main piece of the night," I frowned at the last part.

By now, my mothers previously tear stained face was clear of all traces of the salty liquid. She looked at me curiously. "Why does it make you upset?" She asked. "I remember you telling me about the main pieces from previous years. You should be happy, honored, that he asked you to do such a huge favor!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know," I replied, laying down in her hospital bed. "But there's just so much going on right now.. It's not that I don't want to do it, I've just been feeling extremely uninspired lately. My mind goes blank."

"Well, what's the theme?"

"Nature," I replied, closing my eyes.

"Go out and spend time around nature, simple. Your mind will be bursting with ideas and inspiration."