Secrets

Chapter 25

The written words on a piece of paper can last for 100 years or longer depending on the quality of the paper, the clarity of one's pen-person ship, and the ability to send the message to the intended party. They can also make something come alive in one's mind or bring back the voice of the past. The words drenched in ink upon a page can either bring joy or sorrow depending on the message and who was meant to read it. I, myself, have made a second career of salvaging and preserving the words of others as well as writing my own, coded or otherwise. There are those out there who would prefer to erase or burn the written words, but I will not let them. I attempt to document the stories of others as it is less painful to remember than my own and to let the voices of the past be heard.

I am sure that this is how Holly S. felt as she opened the letter addressed to her, meaning that she was meant to read it. The ink staining the page seemed to bring both joy and sadness as she was able to relive the memory of her mother and have her words in her head again.

The mixings of emotions brought to the girl's mind the metaphor often used by her mother that life was like a sunrise, not entirely light or happy and not entirely dark or sad. Sunrises, while beautiful, also had a hint of gray surrounding them as darkness transitioned to light and Holly could remember the grayness as she and her parents would watch the sunrise from beyond their back porch. It seemed that her family enjoyed both the arrivals and the departures of the sun as well as the appearance and disappearance of the stars. It could also apply to how she felt undecided as to whether she should read the letter or not. If it did contain the answers that she so desperately sought, would they be light or dark or perhaps somewhere in between. As she held these pages, yellowed, and covered in dust from however many years it had been hidden under the music room, she wished that Duncan or anyone was there to help her read the words written. With a great amount of courage that she truly had in droves; she began to read:

Dearest Holly,

If you have found this letter, it means that I have likely passed on to the next life. I do not know when it will happen or how most likely in a house fire, but I have always assumed it would happen because of the things your father and I have done and the secrets that we know. If this ends up being the case, please do not believe that it was an accident as it most certainly was not, but I personally hesitate to ask you to investigate further.

The question of why I would discourage you from exploring the circumstances of my death is probably floating around in your mind but believe me when I say that it is better to leave some mysteries unsolved. There are a great number of stories and secrets that shadow our lives and leave me with the worry of how much we've endangered you.

I suppose that like any story, one must start at the beginning.

While I'm sure you have already heard the story before, but in case you have forgotten, your father and I met during a symphony performance at the local opera house where I played the second violinist in the orchestra. I can even remember the dress that I wore that night; a silk gown of fuchsia with golden accents and the reason that I recall this with such clarity is that your father's brother claimed that I looked like the morning sunrise, glowing and decorated with an elegant shade of winsome. The last word is a phrase that means attractive and appealing in appearance or character. If you can believe it, your father's brother incorporated the same definition into his best man's speech at our wedding. Your father will always tell you that once his brother pointed me out, everything in the world stopped and a single light from heaven above shone down upon me, making my gown sparkle and my beautiful face glow in more ravishing colours. I always wondered if it wasn't just the spotlight shining down from the rafters of the opera house. Regardless, you've known that he's always been a poetic man and secretly romantic. But it wasn't until after the performance when I was meeting with some fellow musicians that I was introduced to the group of friends which included your father. Looking back on it now, perhaps your father's description of our meeting was accurate because when our eyes did meet for the first time and the smile under his moustache formed, I was instantly in love and felt like the beautiful sunrise I was. Though he was too polite to do so, your father wanted to kiss me in front of his brother, sister, and friends. Unfortunately, I had to meet with the composer of the symphony to discuss some business and I did not see your father for quite some time.