Prologue
Chicago, Illinois
I’ve been at Lake Shore North Hospital every day for two weeks now. It won’t be long before Mama’s suffering is over and she goes to be with the Lord. And with my father, who passed away before I was born. As I sit beside her bed, pondering what life is going to look like in the future, Mama stirs and whispers my name.
“Sally.” She calls to me softly, with labored breaths.
I lean toward her and gently take her hand. “What is it, Mama? Are you in pain?”
“Come closer, child. I need to talk to you.”
“Mama. You need to rest. Don’t try to talk.”
“This is important. You need to know.”
“You’ve gone over everything with me. I have all your important papers in the lock box. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. And I’ll be fine.”
I see a tear forming in the corner of Mama’s eye. Her voice is so raspy.
“Your father…”
“You’ll be with him soon, Mama. Together again.”
“No…’m sorry…I should have told you…”
“Mama, it’s not important. Do you need something for pain? I can call the nurse.”
“No, child. Listen to me. Your father… he’s not in heaven. He’s in Mississippi…”
My mouth drops open. Mama’s talking out of her head. The pain meds must be causing her confusion.
“Mama,sh. It’s all right…”
“Salynda,” Mama says sharply, suddenly sounding coherent, as if coming out of a fog. And I know she means business since she’s using my formal name. “Listen to me. I left your father before you were born. He never knew about you. I realize, now, I was wrong. I took something from both of you. I know I’ll need to answer to God for this and I’m ready. Please forgive me. I did what I did out of love. For you both. But now I see it was selfish. I would try to make this right, but I’ve run out of time. Please find him. You’ll need your father once I’m gone.”
Mama’s eyes close again as if she’s exhausted and she expels a long breath. Her energy seems to depart with it. Her breathing is labored again and mixes with the incessantbeep, beep, beepof her monitor.
I sit in stunned silence as tears roll down my cheeks. Is this the confused ramblings of a dying woman, or is what she’s saying real?
After what seems like hours, but is actually only a few minutes, Mama’s doctor comes in on his evening rounds. He checks the monitor and her chart and turns to me.
“Ms. Jones. How has she been today?”
“Sleeping for the most part. But she spoke to me very calmly and clearly a few minutes ago, then slipped into unconsciousness when she finished what she was saying.”
“That’s not uncommon for terminal patients near the end, especially those like your mother who have a DNR order. They sometimes want to make their final wishes known before they depart.”
“So, I should believe what she was telling me, rather than chalking it up to her being under the influence of her pain meds?”
“Well I can’t be certain of that, but whatever she chose to share, I hope it brings you peace.”
Chapter 1
Six Weeks Later
Since Mama’s passing and funeral, I’ve been on a non-stop cycle of closing out her accounts, taking care of her personal effects, and otherwise settling her estate. I haven’t had much time to mourn, or to think about what she shared on her deathbed. Since I have no other family, and none of Mama’s current friends knew her before I was born, there’s no one I can ask about my father. I’m on my own with this and I’m not sure where to begin to find any answers.
A realtor friend is handling the sale of Mama’s house in Beverly. It’s in a good working-class neighborhood and I’m sure it will sell soon. I don’t need to keep it since I have my own condo in Lincoln Park. Mama lived frugally and had a large life insurance policy and savings. After designating a generous donation to her church, she left everything else to me. My personal life was put on hold when Mama got sick, so my days have been busy with work and my nights have been lonely. I’m forty years old and all I have to show for my life is a condo, a small business, and, now, a sizable bank account, thanks to Mama. But no one to share any of it with.
