The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  “Please, Jenny,” Edith said, her voice cracking and trembling, “I just can’t share that with you, today. Please forgive me. I need time to think it all out.”

  “But, Mom,” Jenny pleaded, “We just vowed to tell each other the truth, to tell all. I’ve shared my soul to you and now it’s your turn. Please, Mom.”

  There was a long silence. “Oh, Jenny. My dear Jenny. I just can’t today. But I promise I will in the very near future. I just need time. Please grant me that. You will soon understand why I have withheld this from you for all these years.”

  Jenny was at the peak of her inquisitiveness. “I just have to know, Mom!”

  Millie stuck her head in the door. “So, how are the two of you doing? Oh my, Mrs. Sarsky, you look so upset.” Millie walked further into the room, keeping her gaze on Edith. “I don’t mean to interfere, but remember what the doctor told you, to rest and stay calm. Would you like a pill to settle you down?”

  “No, I’m fine; it’s just something Jenny and I are discussing.”

  “Well, I don’t mean to end this, but you should be getting your rest. Perhaps, Jenny, you should go now and come back tomorrow, if you can.”

  “Yes, yes of course. I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Yes, I know that. Millie is right, though, it’s been quite a day for the both of us. Tomorrow is another a day and perhaps, then, I shall be up to the task.” Thank goodness Millie had happened along when she did.

  Jenny stared into her mother’s eyes, searching for some clue as to what she was hiding from her, but nothing came to mind.

  I wonder what it could be?

  “Mom, you just have to promise me that you will tell me the secret tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Jenny, tomorrow I will tell everything… I promise.”

  Finally feeling satisfied with some sense of closure, Jenny stood and kissed her mother.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, Jenny.”

  After Jenny left, Millie gave Edith a sedative. It normally put her right to sleep, but no medicine could erase the thoughts churning through her mind. The glaring truth of her wrongdoing stung sharply in her heart. She had done an unforgivable wrong to her daughter and now had to the pay the price. The cost of telling the truth was too high at the moment when Jenny was there. Edith just couldn’t afford the possibility of estranging her daughter. She would be so lost without her, yet her deceit stung and her stomach churned away at her.

  Once again, Edith grew angry with herself for only thinking of herself. Jenny had the right to the truth, and Edith knew she deserved any reaction Jenny was sure to throw at her. It would serve her right if Jenny left and never came back to see her. Perhaps the punishment might pay for the all the heartache and pain she’d caused her daughter.

  As drugged as she was, Edith got out of bed and walked to the closet. Her hope chest, one of the few things she had kept and brought with her to the care home, was on a low shelf. There was still an aura of light around the chest, but over the years Edith had become used to it. Every now and then, the staff would comment on the brightness coming from the closet. Edith usually commented that it was the reflection of the sun’s rays that somehow caused it.

  As she picked up the chest, it felt especially warm and she became aware again of the shimmering light growing brighter. The key was still in the keyhole since she was afraid she would lose it or forget where she put it should she store it some place else. She carried the small chest to her bedside and placed it on the table beside the empty cups of tea and plate of leftover cookies. She sat down on the edge of her bed, waiting a moment to catch her breath and recoup some strength to face the secret she had hidden from Jenny for 24 years. Edith sighed as she sat there. She felt tired, not just from her sickness, but of life itself.

  “Oh, how foolish we can be, and how cruel we can be to our loved ones. It is so true; we reap what we sow. We make our own bed, and now we have to sleep in it. Yes, from the very bed I sit on, I once again withheld the truth from my little girl today. I can no longer live with myself if I don’t disclose everything.”

  Edith turned the key and the latch popped open for the first time since placing Henry’s letter to Jenny in it. Edith raised the lid and looked inside for the letter and then she remembered burying it at the very bottom hoping to never see it again. She moved some of the papers and photos aside and dug down to the bottom and knew instantly when she felt Henry’s letter. It was very warm.

  She took hold of the letter and brought it out into the light of day. “Yes,” Edith muttered, “all hidden secrets eventually come to the light of day. Especially secrets that have caused harm.”

  Edith stared at the letter and remembered that there was something heavy inside. It had frightened her enough back then to not throw it into the fire, but now…it filled her with a sense of peace. She wondered what was in the letter.

  She had never told Ted that he had talked in his sleep about the angels inside the letters. She’d never shared that with Ted when he awoke as she didn’t want him to remember the letters, but rather to forget about them. At the moment of his death he had cried out: “deliver the letters, the angelic letters.” Edith always felt that the letters she and Mrs. Pederson had received were the ones that Ted had spoken of. But what did they have to do with angels? Did the object inside the envelope have something to do with them? Well, she would know soon enough.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to you, too, Ted, if you can hear me,” Edith softly cried out. She hung her head as the truth continued to confront her. “You were so right. I see it all now so clearly, we should never try to control the lives and destiny of others. They must be left free to choose. We can only be guides, beacons, supportive, and at best, live a life that reflects the integrity which you so strongly tried to live by.

  “I made you take a detour from your commitment to be honest and truthful. I caused you to live a lie and carry out actions that went against the very core of your beliefs, your being, your heart and soul. Oh, Ted, please forgive me, too.” Edith cried out again in anguish, “I was the cause of your drinking, I see it, now. Oh, Ted. I caused your death. Please forgive me.”

  If it were not for the medication that softened the harshness of her awareness, her realization of what she had done to Ted and Jenny, she just might have had a heart attack. She was totally immersed in self-condemnation, now spilling out in tears; the only way the body knew how to relieve an aching soul.

  Edith reached for a Kleenex on the end table and wiped the blurriness from her eyes, but the tears streamed out relentlessly. All the guilt she suppressed, the knowing which she withheld from her conscious mind erupted and she could no longer hold it back or lie to herself. What Edith didn’t realize was that in facing the truth of her sins, that within her anguish and turmoil, she was also planting the seed of peace and that the truth would set her free.

  Around 3:30 in the morning, Millie checked on Edith. When Millie entered the room, she was taken aback by what she saw. Edith was asleep. The chest on the table beside the bed was opened. Edith was holding an envelope in her left hand resting on the bed beside her. Several wet Kleenex lay on her bed, the night table, and the table with the chest.

  “What on earth is going on here?” Millie muttered. Millie took the envelope from Edith’s hand, wondering if that was what had upset her. “Oh my, it feels so warm. Could it be from the heat of Edith’s hand?”

  Millie brought the envelope to the open chest, placed it back in the chest and closed it, turning the key in the lock.

  She picked up the chest and put it back in the closet.

  “Out of sight, out of mind,” muttered Millie.

  Millie stopped and took one last look at Edith before leaving. She wondered how on earth Edith had made her way over to the closet by herself. She had been bedridden for two weeks, not even able to make it out of bed to go to the
bathroom. And then, to carry that heavy chest back to the bed?

  Something very powerful must have motivated her to do that.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jenny could hardly wait for morning. What could her mother have to tell her? It seemed so painful for her. Her only clue was that whatever it was had something to do with what was in that brown paper bag. But how could something that happened 23 years ago back when she and James had decided to get married have any bearing on what was making her mother upset now?

  Shortly after one, Jenny drove over to the care home. Anxious to see her mother, she pulled into the parking lot five minutes earlier than usual. Jenny turned the car off, but sat silently for a few moments before getting out. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She knew something was about to happen, but didn’t know what.

  “Well, whatever it is, I’m ready to face it and deal with it.” Jenny hopped out of the car and walked briskly into the care home and down the hall towards her mother’s room.

  Jenny found her mother wide awake when she entered the room. The top half of her bed was cranked up slightly, which made it appear as if her mother was sitting upright. Jenny could tell by the look in her mother’s eyes and her posture that she, too, was ready and determined to reveal her secret.

  “Hi, Mom,” Jenny said, as she studied her mother.

  “Hello, Jenny,” her mother responded, with a little bounce in her voice.

  Good. Her voice was energetic and she sounded well enough to go ahead with it.

  “Jenny?”

  “Yes, Mom?”

  “Before you sit down, I would like you to do something for me.”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  “If you go into my closet you will see my keepsake chest on the shelf. You know the one I inherited from my mother after she passed away.”

  “Yes, I know the one. You told me that you put important papers and documents in there such as wills and deeds.”

  “Yes, that is true, but I also keep other things in there that are very private. I must caution you, Jenny, that what you will find in there will be very painful, and I ask you to please be very understanding and forgiving. Remember, I too, was young once and lacked good judgment at times.”

  Jenny looked at her mother then rushed to the closet. Her first inclination was to look up to where a shelf in a closet would usually be, but in this care home the shelves were purposely put just above the shoes on the floor so that residents could have easy access to them. Jenny bent down and picked up the chest before carrying it to the bedside eating table.

  “Turn the key and open it. It holds a secret I have been keeping from you for many, many years. I realize now, I was wrong to do so and I ask you once again to please, please forgive me for my wrongdoing.”

  Jenny’s heart galloped as she studied her mother’s face. She was excited to open it and, yet, from her mother’s cautioning and pleading for forgiveness, she was afraid of what she might find. A sense of foreboding swept over her, as she reached for the key.

  She turned to her mother whose eyes were already filled with tears and pleading forgiveness.

  “Is what was in that brown paper bag in here?”

  “Yes.”

  Jenny turned back to the chest. It can’t possibly be that terrible if it could be held in a small paper bag. Jenny’s rationalization helped ease the tension. But the fear in her mother’s eyes and her pleading for forgiveness seemed to intensify with every move Jenny made…

  Jenny’s fingers trembled as they turned the key and the latch snapped opened. She slowly raised the lid. A letter lay on top.

  “Is it this letter, Mom?” asked Jenny, trying to brace herself.

  Her mother’s response was the obvious apprehension in her eyes and furrowed brow. Her face was contorted so much, Jenny almost didn’t recognize her. Jenny reached for the envelope, which lay face down. The instant she touched it, a warmth spread through her being, and she instantly knew who it was from. She raised her head and looked into her mother’s eyes.

  “It’s a letter from Henry… isn’t it, Mom?”

  Her mother didn’t answer. She didn’t even nod her head.

  Jenny returned her gaze to the envelope as she slowly turned it over and read the return address on the top left hand corner. It was as she had thought. It was from Henry.

  Jenny’s eyes widened as she read the addresses again.

  “It is from Henry. But it’s addressed to Daddy’s business, which means… Henry didn’t know our home address. But I sent him many letters with our home address on it?”

  Jenny gasped.

  “He never received any of my letters. Why didn’t Daddy bring the letter home to me? Why? Every day I asked Daddy if there was a letter for me from Henry and every day he said no. But, why?”

  Jenny looked at her mom in disbelief, pure shame was written all over her face. Her mother clutched at the bedspread covering her body and gathered it under her chin as if to protect herself from her daughter’s impending wrath and anger. Jenny’s knees wobbled and finally buckled, she collapsed into the chair next to her mother’s bedside.

  “Oh, Mom,” Jenny said, in a tone that left no doubt as to her pain. “How on earth could you and Daddy have done this to me?”

  Her mother didn’t answer, she was frozen with guilt.

  Jenny looked back at the letter, her mind churning to fit the pieces together and make some sense of it all.

  The more she thought about it, the more she thought she understood what had happened. But her revelations brought her no solace. Her mom had been worried about how close she and Henry had become. They’d deliberately sought to keep them apart.

  “You and Dad kept Henry’s letters from me and my letters from Henry, didn’t you?” Jenny searched her mother’s eyes.

  Her mother ducked behind the covers and nodded.

  “Oh, Mom…”

  Anger and hurt vied for control of Jenny’s feelings. She couldn’t understand how her mom and dad could have done this to her. How could they have kept Henry’s letters away from her, knowing how much she longed to receive them? How they could have lied to her all these years? Lied about having mailed her letters. Lied about having never received any letters from Henry.

  Hot tears rolled down Jenny’s cheeks, the streaks burning against her flushed red face. The grip of despair wedged itself in-between her anger and hurt, overwhelming her. She looked up at her mother through blurred eyes, not knowing how to react. She reached up and wiped the tears off with the back of her hand but they just kept coming. All the bottled up disappointment and feelings of rejection she’d suppressed over the years, finally surfaced. Jenny sat there, helpless to control her emotions, at the complete mercy of the truth that had been denied her and was now staring at her squarely in her mind, heart and soul.

  Gradually, Jenny’s sobs subsided until she sat quiet and still. Jenny reached for the Kleenex box on the end table beside her mother’s bed and half-heartedly tugged several sheets from it. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose and then dropped her hands to her lap completely, emotionally, physically and mentally exhausted. First, the divorce proceedings, then learning her mother’s secret.

  Aloneness and abandonment washed over her.

  All those whom she had thought were close to her, truthful to her and trustworthy were no more. James had failed her. Her son had abandoned her, and the persons who had given her life had taken it away from her. Jenny would never have imagined in a million years that she would reach a moment in her life when all she felt was consumed by utter emptiness.

  She looked up at her mother. The pain and anguish in her mother’s eyes appeared even greater than what Jenny herself was feeling. The forlorn image before her, tugged at her spirit of compassion and forgiveness. A sense of acceptance and reason crawled back into Jenny’s mind. Even if she had the strength to l
ash out at her mother, what good would it do to be angry at her now? The damage had been done and now they must live with the consequences, as painful as they were.

  “We thought…we thought it was for…the best,” her mother squeaked out between sobs.

  Jenny had never seen her mother look so sorrowful. Feelings of empathy strengthened as Jenny felt pity and love for her mother more than anger, understanding more than vengeance. It was against Jenny’s nature to be vindictive and she intuitively knew that to harbour a spirit of unforgiveness towards her mother would simply perpetuate this entire tragic affair and keep them both trapped. She managed a slight smile and immediately Jenny sensed her mother’s relief as she cried all the more.

  As her mother sobbed and looked on, Jenny picked up the letter and stared at her name written in Henry’s handwriting: To Jenny Sarsky.

  Henry had kept his promise.

  She was about to open the letter when it dawned on her: what about Henry? Did he know she had kept her promise, too? If he never received any of her letters, he was probably still under the impression that she hadn’t written to him.

  “Oh, God,” Jenny blurted out as once again pangs of pain stabbed at her heart at the full realization of the consequences of her parents’ withholding of these letters hit her. Tears welled up again. She wiped them with the back of her hand and looked down at the envelope once more… in no hurry to open it. There was no urgency, now. It was all over between them. Jenny almost didn’t want to know if Henry still loved her; that it all could have been so different.