Forever in a Notebook

In the corner of a dimly lit room sat a young woman gliding slowly on an old rocker. The house was silent except for the longing cries of a baby. As she rocked herself, a slow shadow of her sunken figure rocked back and forth with her keeping her company.

Her heart sunk further after she spared a glance at the time glowing from her phone while the baby continued to cry. She walked towards the crib and held the baby up to her chest once more. Her heart loved the baby; yet, she couldn't help but let out tears that gently rolled down her face, landing on the baby's soft hair.

She sang the baby her favorite song. It was the same song she always imagined singing her baby to sleep with but never thought it would carry such a soft melancholy feeling to it. As she continued to sing, the baby calmed to her mom's voice and the warmth of her chest and beating heart.

Not long after, the baby gave in to the sweetness of her mom and fell asleep. As she laid the baby back in her crib, she held her breath and silently left the room. As the door was closed behind her, she let out a quiet sigh, curled over, and held her hands over her face to conceal a silent scream.

It was too much for her to keep inside. She had a healthy baby that she loved more than her own life, but she could not comprehend the hopeless feelings. She should feel happy and joyful. All of those months waiting and waiting for her to have her baby finally, and now she could only feel a saddening despair. She had never felt more alone.

As she composed herself, she walked over to her room and laid in bed where her husband laid sleeping next to her undisturbed. As she looked at him, she had what felt like a brief flicker of fire in her chest that burned slowly; only dissipating as sleep overtook her.

 Not long after she fell asleep, she began to dream. She had left her physical body and was the observer of a different reality. There was no question of how she had arrived at where she was. There was no one in sight in this place, and the only thing in front of her, slightly hidden in fog, was her childhood home.

Everything in the house was the same. Even her mom, who had passed away a few years ago, was there waiting to embrace her as she walked in the door. In her dream, there wasn't anything strange about seeing her mom. It was this reality's normal, and it was as if she had never gone.

Her mom stepped away and looked at her. "Why so sad, beautiful?" she said as she brushed away a tear on her warm cheek.

The young woman had not noticed she had been crying and that the entire floor was covered in crystal-like water. The water rippled, flowing outwards from the last tear that had fallen. "I am scared, mom" she responded.

Her mother held her close again and grabbed her hand as she guided her to an unfamiliar room. In the middle of the room, a silver box was submerged in a beautiful marble basin. Although the room was strange, the box reminded her of her mother's jewelry box from when she was younger.

Without noticing, she was alone again. The entire room had changed to walls with old roots that filled the room with the smell of damp earth. The only light illuminating the room came from the silver glow around the chest as it glistened in the water.

However, before she could step further into the room, she was pulled away back into her physical body.

Once she realized she had only been dreaming, the feeling of safety and love lost its hold. The heaviness of her body overcame the security of her mother's embrace that she was so sure was real. As she lay there thinking, she couldn't help but feel like she was not worthy of giving that same warmth to her own child.

After a few moments of reflecting, she decided to take the rare opportunity of having a quiet house to look through her mother's old things. She had not dared look at it before out of fear of the pain she might feel from the significance of the items. However, in the moment, all she wanted was to be with her mom like she had been moments before.

The darkness of the home and the dream of her mother made her fearful. Fear of being alone and in the unknown was something familiar in her life.

As she entered the closet, she flicked the light on, and her mind eased a little as she found comfort in the familiarity around her.

Stepping further inside the small room, she knew what she was looking for; however, it had been so long that she couldn't find it. The frustration grew until she heard something fall behind her. A comforter stuffed in the corner had fallen over from on top of the box she was looking for. Her heart jumped, and she couldn't help but feel slightly afraid.

She went over to the box and opened it carefully. Inside was everything just as she had remembered. The same sweet aroma she remembered so lovingly from her mom had still lasted all these years.

She quickly rummaged through the box to retrieve what she wanted to find. The jewelry box had to be in there. However, there were too many things inside to find it. She began taking out everything that must have been stacked on top of it, but before she could get to it, something else caught her eye.

How it had gotten in the box, she was unsure. She had packed the box herself and did not remember ever putting it in the box. Yet, somehow, thrown in with everything else was a small black notebook.

The book's cover was inscribed with gold lettering that read, "For my beautiful daughter." Upon opening the book, a small note fell out that had been placed inside the cover. Attached to the message was a check for her worth twenty-thousand dollars.

However, the money only held her interest for an instant before noticing that the note was undeniably written in her mother's writing. The significance of her mom, her family, and the warmth that came with that, was worth more than paper money could ever offer. The note read:

"I will always be here for you. I love you."

She turned her attention back to the book, and it was undeniable that the delicate flow of warm ink was her mom's writing.

Her heart fluttered with the same happiness she had felt throughout her childhood, growing up with her mom before she passed away.

Before reading, she ran her hand over the ink to try and feel the warmth of the words. It brought an incredible feeling of love and family to her fingertips as she brushed her fingers gently over the page.

She sat back and was taken back to all of the memories from the beginning. The stroke of each letter created the canvas of her life. Every delicate curve of soft cursive was the happiness they shared. It was the time they spent laughing together, every hug they ever had, and the love they shared in all of the good times.

However, there were also spots with gently smeared ink that invoked emotions of sorrow. It was the sadness her mother felt when her baby was sick. It was the heartache of any failure or disappointment she had for herself as a mother. It was all of the negative aspects of her life she never let show.

The young woman read for the rest of the night. Captivated by the writing, she could not draw herself away. Nothing could break her away from the dream the book had taken her to.

However, before she could finish, her husband walked in holding their daughter in his arms and asked her what she was doing up so early. She shifted her attention away from the book and looked at her beautiful family.

The words that her mother had written allowed her to realize that she was not alone and that imperfections did not make her a failure. The emotions painted across each page showed the many emotions her mother had lived through while raising her. It was through the ups and downs that created the story of her childhood that she cherished.

She closed the book and walked up to her husband and daughter. Her daughter smiled and reached out to her mom to hold her. The young woman reached back out to her, kissed her cheek, and without fear or sadness told her daughter, "I will always be here for you. I love you".