For Celine

It was the middle of my senior year of college. My parents decided to move down south to retire and were selling our childhood house. I felt a sense of loss that I could not explain. I knew that I was 21, but this house was my history. Where my boyfriend picked me up for my first date. Where I felt safe from the bullying I experienced at school. I would come to this house that my parents were now selling and shed all the hurt that the day brought due to the relentless teasing from my peers due to my big hair and long-limbs. I was an “other” everywhere else in my community but here.

I didn’t even attempt to convince my parents to not sell our home. They had given up so much for my siblings and me to live in this house. Dad was transferred here from Houston where he left behind his family, his support system, and the job he’d held since I could remember. The new job was much more lucrative and provided him with more experience. It also helped pay for all our education. I knew it was hard on my parents though. Moving across the country to Philadelphia was different for us. The city felt small, yet foreign in a way that wasn’t due to it being our new home. People walked by us as if we were invisible. Everyone just kept to themselves and the only diversity in our neighborhood was the fauna.

No one was ever directly mean to my parents. They were always polite. But, the politeness seemed forced. They had to interact with us because we lived in a small gated community at the edge of the city. But, they didn’t seem interested at all in getting to know us. One woman did bring over an apple pie and neighbors occasionally waved. But, it just wasn’t Houston. I knew it was time for my parents to move back home.

My mom asked that I come home and pack-up my room. My parents were so sentimental. My room remained the same. It was this eggshell color with a little rug adorned with flowers. My beanbag chair had gained some dust. But, it was still in pretty good condition. I just sat in it for a while as I enjoyed some of my last moments in this house. After college, I was headed to Brazil through the Fulbright Program where I would teach English for the next year.

I packed up my room relatively fast. My mom was always big on us not keeping too many things. Mom always said that it was important to live simply. We have been given so much and the goal wasn’t to hoard items but to give back to others in our community. This is so my mom and the social worker/physician coming out of her. Most of the house was packed up except for the attic. Oh, the attic. My siblings and I played countless games of hide-and-seek as there were so many boxes in there. Talk about not keeping too many things.

My mom had already started clearing things out. But, there was still quite a bit to go. Several hours went by with us saying the same phrase over and over again: Keep or toss. Mom finally said that she needed a break from all of the standing. My mom was a retired Oncology Surgeon and had spent her life doing major operations as long as fifteen hours. Unfortunately, the job had taken a toll on her.

While mom went downstairs, I decided to keep going. I planned on staying the weekend. But, I did want to get some time in my room before I left. I was moving through the boxes pretty quickly until I came across an unlabeled box. It was trapped under many others and covered in dust. Something started stirring in me and my heartbeat quickened. I don’t know why, but I felt as if I stumbled upon something that I wasn’t supposed to see. Every box I had touched was labeled, so why not this one?

I got the box cutter and opened the box. A sigh of relief came out of my mouth. They were just pictures. Pictures of my mom as a kid in Haiti. Her dad traveled around the world for work and settled in Haiti for a while where he met my grandmother who was a surgeon just like my mom. Ironically, my grandmother died of cancer while my mom was relatively young. My mom was raised by her community in Haiti, which she said softened the blow of her grief.

There were so many photos of my grandmother. She was tall like me. I had my grandfather’s eyes though, which my mom did too. I went through the pictures reminiscing as I found others of me as a child. And, then, I came across one that was puzzling. My mom only had two younger sisters, but there was another girl in one photo. I turned the photo over and saw the names of my other aunts listed there: Aunt Anna and Aunt Salome. Who was this woman? She looked like my aunts and mom. Perhaps she was a cousin? But, she was in every photo I saw. I even found a photo of my grandmother in the hospital with her.

Something wasn’t adding up. Why would my mom lie about only having two siblings? There must be a logical reason for all of this and then I came upon it. It was a small black notebook with the most beautiful engraving. My fingers outlined the etching. I was also covered in dust. I opened the notebook and that same sick feeling washed over me. Right there on the first page, it said, “For Celine.” I was the only Celine in our family. Who could have written this notebook for me? Why would my parents keep it from me?

I started turning the pages and I saw a photo of a woman I had never seen before. I knew she was family, though, as she looked so similar to my mom. Identical almost. There were photos of me as a baby in this woman’s hands. She beamed next to a handsome man with very big curly hair. People in my family had curly hair, but mine was definitely the biggest. My mom told me that I got my hair from my great-grandmother. But, here was this man whose hair looked identical to my own. I kept flipping through the journal. I saw images of my mom and this woman as an adult, even as a child. Who was this? Now, I was becoming upset. I flipped through the journal and landed on an entry dated December 31, 2000.

December 31st was always a special day in our house as it marked the last day of the year. I never thought much about it. Perhaps there was a connection between the celebration and this journey entry.

From Mommy

December 31, 2000

To my dearest, Celine. The love of my life. The greatest joy I have ever experienced in this world. God has blessed me with the most wonderful child anyone could ask for. You are perfection. Your laugh, the way you smile in your sleep, the way you look at me. Those big brown eyes of yours.

Your dad and I are absolutely in love with you. I am writing you this letter as those who have come before have done. When you turn 25, you will receive this notebook as a reminder of how much I love you. We want you to have memories from your very first moments in this world. Oh, Celine. How absolutely precious you are. Mommy loves you so much. Here is to many more sweet memories, my beautiful girl. I love you.

-Mommy

My hands were shaking. It was as if the ground was dissolving. I had to sit down before I passed out. I was hyperventilating now, but I couldn’t put down the journal so I kept reading. I saw another entry dated December 31, 2000.

From Daddy

December 31, 2000

I can’t believe that I have the honor of calling you mine. The joy of my life. The reason for my existence. Today is your mom and my wedding anniversary. Two years after our marriage, the Heavens opened and gave you to us. I was adopted as a child by the loveliest family. My parents loved me unconditionally and I never thought anything of being adopted until I got really sick and I needed an urgent blood transfusion at 15. My parent’s blood types were incompatible with my own, so we waited. I just remember tears strolling down my face and then I was sobbing. I belonged nowhere even in my family.

This is a distant memory. But, the fact that your mine means that my blood runs through your veins. We actually have the same Blood type. We are both Blood Type AB. Whatever happens, I will always be there for you. I would lay my life down for you, my sweet Celine. You are my flesh and blood. You are a home for me and the only connection I have to something that is biologically my own. You will go and have children that will be protected by your own blood as I have protected you with my own.

I will never leave your side, Celine. I can’t wait for you to receive this journal. Please take this token of my love and the $20,000 that my biological parents gave as their contribution to your inheritance.

I love you so much, Princess.

Daddy

I stormed down the stairs with the little black notebook and tossed it across the counter at my mom. My mom almost collapsed at the sight of the book. It was as if she’d seen a ghost. Let me explain, Celine.” “Please, let me explain.” She was by my side now and held my hands. “You lied to me, momma.” “You lied to me,” I kept saying.

“Celine, please sit down.” “It was never my intention for you to see this,” she said. At this, I became furious. “Momma, I can’t believe you are saying this!” I exclaimed. “Celine, please let me explain.” I kept sobbing and stood against the wall. “The woman in this notebook, the one who wrote you this letter is my younger sister, Silvia. Silvia loved you so much, Celine. You were the joy of her life and the reason for her existence. Both of your parents loved you very much Celine,” she said. “So, where are they?” I shot back. “Celine, please; I am trying to tell you,” she said. “I am sure you read in the journal that my sister, Silvia, was a midwife. On December 31st, she was scheduled to deliver a set of twins. Your father, Gregory, didn’t want her to drive alone. So, he drove her to the hospital,” she said.

My mom was gasping and sobbing. My heart broke as I saw the strongest woman in my life unravel. “Mommy, please tell me what happened,” I said. She kept sobbing and slowly regained her composure. “On their way to the hospital, your parents got into a car accident. Apparently, the driver was intoxicated. He survived, but Silvia and your dad didn’t. They were killed on impact.”

The room went completely silent. For the first time in my life, my mind went blank. I couldn’t remember what day it was nor why I was in the house. “Celine, please say something,” my mom said in a shaky voice. “Celine, please. You’re scaring me.” This was too overwhelming for me. I felt myself falling, and the next thing I knew, everything went black.