Maman died today.
The postcard came in the mail last night. I was asleep. I saw a man come in, however. He was dressed all in grey. He wore an off-tilted hat with a white ridge around the brim, and then he handed me the letter sealed with a gold wax seal. I thought it was a nice gesture as no one takes the time to put a nice seal on letters anymore. Without thinking, I responded with a “Thank You”, and the man drove away.
Afterwards, it struck me that I needn’t have said that. I had no reason to thank the delivery boy; he was probably getting paid to do it. I thought: how many more letters would he deliver that day? He reminded me of a fellow that I used to know; a friend, even, Raymond was to me. He lived a simple life. In the mornings, Raymond didn’t go out; it was only until the evening that he went out. He always had the company of a young girl, and he even told me one time that he couldn’t go on without them. He was unusual. Or was that Edward?
Regardless, the letter came to me – Maman had wanted that I see it. I peeled back the seal and peeked inside, but there was nothing in it. An empty envelope, inviting yet unsettling. Perhaps she had run out of time to fill it? Perhaps it was a message. A gift, even: hope. Maybe I could become somebody or do something as well. Without an interruption, I would have kept on going without a direction.
As soon as I had grasped these feelings, I began to feel drowsy again. I couldn’t fight back the sensation, so I began to think back to the man with the grey hat. He continued to go on doing his job; continued to go on working towards whatever it was that he was working towards, and went on despite fatigue or hunger. But his task, being so simple, so mundane, surely could not be significant. Rather, looking back down at the now open envelope, I began to feel disappointed. I thought that despite the white hope that Maman gave me, I would lack the ethic and would thus fail. I can’t fail.
I wish I could go on, but I must go to sleep now for the light is blinding.
Flavors: Flowers, Medicinal, Peppermint