The Night of The OWL

Memory and?

Shannon was desperate for relief. The single pane glass leached the heat from her face where her forehead pressed against it. Her hands still trembled despite her tight grip on the windowsill. Teeth clenched against the worry and fear drowning her inside. Her eyes, weighted with unshed tears, she willed them not to fall. She would not let this destroy no matter what. They needed her, Evan, her husband of 3 years, and dad. Since mom died, he hadn’t been the same.

Her heart split open again, at the thought of mom. Tears escaped rapidly down her cheeks, with them, the sorrow of the past and the worry for present, and fear of the future. Giving sight to the clashing emotions of her heart.

Emotions suddenly clogged her throat as she fought to breathe, the lump, edging on pain. The window, no longer cooled her face, hot, flushed, suffocating, she trapped in a sob. Desperate for relief she grabbed the old brass handles of the window. The window didn’t move. She jerked harder- nothing. Frustration built, and she cried out while fumbling with the lock on the window. Her grip on her emotions shifted, weakening, the lock clicked open, she jerked the brass handles again. Success. The blast of cool mountain air hit her, solidifying her, through the window opened. She steadied.

The pull of her bra on the bandage on the underside of her breast, she winced. The twinge instinctively drew her hand to her owl necklace. She breathed the mountain air, deeply. It was cool, crisp, and gave her solace. The sound of rushing wind through the giant oak in the farmyard drew her attention out the open window.

The farmyard looked nearly the same as always this time of year. Old wooden fence posts along the garden, leading to the barn but stopping by the big oak. Flower beds along the house, the old wooden fence, and a dozen pots around the tree. In summer they overflowed with flowers. Mom had always had beautiful but somewhat unkempt flowerbeds. Looking at it now, it was just the skeletons of flowers that had brought beauty to the farm.

The glory of the flowers crystalized in her mind, blocking out the dark, somewhat depressed farmyard. It was the day she told Mom she was engaged. Mom had been in that garden, cussing at the vines along the old wooden fence by the tree. Shannon parked on the other side of the house; Mom hadn’t heard a thing. and was confused at her and Evan’s unannounced visit. Confusion turned to elation, and hysterical laughter; dad was in on the surprise. Shannon, Dad and Evan discovered thirty minutes later, and nearly constantly after just how much mom had been planning, saving, and looking forward to her daughter’s wedding.

Her heart ached now, remembering how they rushed, headlong into planning the wedding. Date picked, venue chosen, and discussions and pictures of: flowers, dresses, music, and theme. If only they’d known what was coming. Mom got tired and run-down. She found a lump, small, but stage 4. She didn’t have long. Remission was…highly…improbable… She was determined to see her daughter married before she died. Shannon’s heart broke in new places as she thought of her mom, and the hopes she clung to.

Shannon’s hand hovered near her own incision in her breast. Acknowledging, yet not touching, for fear of making it a reality. Mom had been brave and determined to triumph. She wouldn’t let Shannon stop or halt planning the wedding for more than the month it took to determine the best course of treatment. She was given a year, and advised on experimental treatments, with no guarantees. But mom wanted to enjoy her last days., She refused anything absolutely unnecessary or invasive. She was focused on enjoying what was.

She demanded going on with the wedding, and volunteered everyone else into helping. There were changes; the venue was now the farm, they cleaned up the barn, and friends and family pitched in. Mom insisted on all sorts of things for the wedding, Shannon, Evan and Dad agreed because, it was mom, and they wanted it perfect for her.

One month, twenty-four days before the wedding day, mom didn’t wake up from a nap. Shannon had been at work, when Evan showed up then Dad called. Her world shattered, her soul felt cavernous, she thought she lost…everything. She was poised to start her life with Evan, the man she loved. While dad lost the love of his life. How was that fair? How could she have a love and a future, while dad was alone, on the farm, looking at a future without his wife of 25 years.

She remembered the arguments in this house, over the phone and in the garden. She begged to postpone the wedding. Without mom, what was the point? It had felt selfish, and unfair to dad. Despite it all, dad wasn’t deterred, and was even bolstered when he found the letters mom had written to him, Shannon, and Evan. In her letters to them, mom promised she’d be there with them, and that no matter, they always look forward, move through the pain, and love despite the unfairness and bitterness life can bring.

Shannon and Evan got married as planned, and mom’s ashes attended, despite how morbid it was. Every second of the day was hard, yet happy. She cried, hell, everyone cried. But everyone celebrated, and it was perfect. The emotions of that day ran, unchecked through her mind and heart as she remembered everything. She was thankful for the memories, and their overshadowing salve on her currently raw emotions. Shannon absentmindedly touched the hieroglyphic stye owl pendant that mom had bought for her, Dad gave it to her on her wedding day. She rarely took it off.

Her heart was happy yet ached painfully, for then and now. Her eyes looked to the branches of the old oak, hope sparking at the possibility of seeing the barn owl. Since she could remember, daily a barn owl was seen in that tree. The branches sat bereft, empty and cold in the night. She mostly expected it. The owl left their farm, the day after the wedding, while they spread mom’s ashes by the creek. It hadn’t been seen since. In some ways, it felt like mom was officially gone that day too. Ironic, since owls were mom’s favorite animal, and borderline obsession.

She smiled odd joy, bubbling with a small laugh, thinking of just how much owl crap was in the house when she was growing up. It was everywhere, and on everything!! I mean how many owl salt and pepper shakers or figurines did someone need?! Shannon’s amusement eased the tension that was still holding her tight. She remembered swearing off ever having owls her senior year of high school. She even purposely tried to avoid them. Dad had thinned some of the collection, but the favorite pieces were still there. And since the day mom got sick, she may have a few owl decorations in her home too. Her heart sighed achily thinking of the reason she started and why they are for her now.

She sat fully on the windowsill, despite listening to the wind, and embracing the cold, she was still overwhelmed. She was overwhelmed by mud, not a whirlwind, and it angered her. She felt everything as slow waves, washing over her heart and soul, anger, sadness, indignation, and hopelessness. The bandage on her breast twinged as she shifted, standing to her feet, facing... She touched it gently and winced.

The reminder of reality and perhaps fate made Shannon wonder if hers was same as moms. Immediate and self-centered concerns of what Evan would remember of her beat against her mind first. Would he have keepsakes, and things of hers he treasured? What memories would he to the longest? What would fade first? How long until he moved on? Erratic thoughts jumped to Dad. How could he be strong enough for this?

Sorrow overwhelmed her intensely, slowly and heavy. She wanted to live, she wanted to experience everything she hoped for and everything hoped for her. She wanted to see Dad happy, she wanted a future and full life with Evan. She wanted! It was as though her soul was waking up on the realization that it was all finite. The rage and heat built within her.

Damnit, she wanted…just wanted… more than anything!!! Her rage consumed her before instantly melting to heavy sorrow. She was angry… at the sorrow she felt, and the sorrow they would also feel. She gripped the windowsill, as she screamed internally, shaking with the emotion she fought and feared to let out, it would consume her. She still, deep down, hoped the anger would slay all that was threatening her life, her world, her family, and future. Her face flushed again, as it was when she came in the bedroom, and first touched her face to the glass. She breathed deep, shaking as she held together the hope of everything clashing within her being.

Shannon felt herself splintering along the thin fault lines she had stitched herself back together on after Mom. Her breath caught, she gasped, struggling. The wind was out of her, but there had been no blow or fall. Reality hit her like a train on a backroad where no train tracks existed. Mom had felt this way too. She gasped, an almost silent scream, anger doused in unfathomable emptiness and sorrow. She never had fully considered. Mom had always been so brave, and positive. But Shannon was scared, and angry, and a million other emotions she could not put to words. Had mom felt the same? She must have, she was human.

Shannon felt sick, and disgusted. She had only been married for just over two years. Despite losing her mom, she’d still become so wrapped up in her life, and her plans, career, goals, etc. She was very close to her family, but she seemed to slip easily, at some point into planning her own world. She thought now of how she imagined mom and dad ‘must feel’ and how ‘they must be handling things’ when mom got sick. And she had wondered, distantly, how she would handle it, but never really examined, truly. She had never considered, until now, half of what mom must have thought even when she got the diagnosis for the first time. Even now, while wondering if her fate was to be the same Shannon realized she never fully, and truly, honestly asked, her mom. Or maybe she didn’t listen right, or maybe, then, when her mom needed her and needed to lean on someone the most, Shannon was just selfish and didn’t want to realize how hard the reality was, and that it was easier to just pretended that mom was strong. Pretending was easier. Easier than thinking mom needed her, and realizing that mom knew her daughter was shallow and didn’t notice how her mother struggled and made her carry her burden alone.

Memories and conversations crystalized in her mind. Shannon realized exactly how much her mom loved her, and how much she had tried to be brave for everyone. She had a feeling that Dad knew some of mom’s struggle, and probably had a similar one of his own. She sat there momentarily numb, and emotionally shocked as the breeze picked up,, rustling through the oak and the remains of the flowers. Shannon understood, like mamma had said that there was only the here, now. Living life how you could and hopefully should.

Shannon had plans. Was she doing anything to embrace it, or the here and now? Before she died, Mom had always talked about enjoying the now . Shannon felt shame, she’d forgotten it. She’d forgotten, how boldly, and minutely mom had seized every minute and moment, making the last days of her life as full as possible.

Shannon was shocked. How could she forget? She was so focused on the future that should have been, or would be missed, that she was forgetting that there was still, the here and now. She could experience that, with her dad and her husband. Downstairs in her family’s farmhouse living room waiting for her, were her dad and Evan. Altered hope and a determination she hadn’t felt before burned like fire through the weight of sorrow. She felt the sad ache of sorrow for what would be, what should have been and all that would be missed. The fire love and making the best of what was made her not care. She had the now, and she would not let it escape. The anger and rage of what was being taken turning into a determination to fight for whatever she could and was allowed to have.

Now, she pushed past her fears and naïve. If she was to share her mom’s fate, she would make the most of every moment. She stood, firmly at her place by the windowsill. The moonlight boldly illuminating the bedraggled garden and flower beds. Maybe she could spend her last time here, where mom had, and with her family. She would embrace, what little time she had left, and give them every ounce of it she had. Shannon turned from the window headed downstairs, to be with Evan and dad.

She jumped when her phone trilled loudly, and the light flashed, the second she stepped next to it. Her stomach dropped, confidence, hope, fear, and determination vanishing to smoke at the sight of Dr. LOU on the caller ID. Dr. Lou had been mom’s oncologist. Shannon had logically gone to her when she’d felt tired, faint, found the lump. They’d done blood work two weeks ago and found nothing. Then the biopsy and more bloodwork yesterday. She wasn’t expecting to hear back till Monday. Dread pooled quickly and deeply in her belly as she gave up all hope she embraced only moments ago. Hands trembled as she grabbed the phone.

She answered, but only managed a mumble in greeting.

“Shannon? It’s Dr. Lou.”

“Yes, Doctor, I’m here.” She forced out, shakily.

“It’s Dr. Lou, I know it’s late, but I also know you would be anxious to know the results.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Shannon managed to mumble.

“The biopsy and blood results came back clear, Shannon. There is no cancer, no sign of any disease. You are healthy, you are not ill, you are going to live a long time based on what I am seeing.”

“Are you sure? The results aren’t wrong?”

“No Shannon, the results aren’t wrong.” Dr. Lou said warmly and assuring.

“Then why have I been so tired, lightheaded… what caused the lump?” She almost begged to know.

“It was a clogged gland Shannon, totally normal for a pregnant woman.” Dr. Lou announced warmly.

“What? Preg-? I don’t understand.” Shannon’s voice cracked on unknown emotion.

“You’re pregnant Shannon, that is why you are tired, and lightheaded. Your milk gland got plugged, but it is completely normal.” Dr. Lou said happily and reassuringly.

Silence.

“Shannon?”

“So, I’m not – I don’t have? I’m not gonna die?” She stammered emotions thick. “And I’m, I’m pregnant? I’m gonna have a baby?” She managed on a half sob..

“Yes, Shannon. You are going to live, and you are pregnant! You have everything to look forward to! Enjoy your weekend and celebrate!” Dr. Lou finished as she hung up the phone.

Shannon was dumbfounded. In the matter of two minutes her life shifted. Gone was the sadness and anger. Joy flooded her and tears rolled down her cheeks. She was going to be a mom, she had a future, she could look past the unknown but finite end. There was hope. On the heels of her joy came uncertainty and fear. The emotions rolling through her, gave no real direction but buoyed her. She was ecstatic yet realized she would not have her mom there. Dad would be there, and Evan, but she wanted her mom too. Shannon cried a little, for joy, and sorrow. The joy, relief, hope and love for her child overwhelmed the heart break of not having mom there. She wanted everything for the future of her child. Shannon’s mom was not perfect, but amazing. She had taught her how to be a good mom, and how to love. Fleeting, yet icy fear stabbed her heart at the thought of not being able to be what her child needed. But then she remembered who raised her.

Loud screeching pierced her frenzied thoughts, halting them. The second screech sparked hope. She rushed, four steps back to the window and looked up, through her blurry vision. She frantically wiped at her eyes, clearing her vision as another screech sounded in the inky dark of the farmyard. She searched frantically, hoping it was true. There, shining in the moonlight on the fencepost, surrounded by messy sleeping flowers, sat mom’s barn owl. The owl looked at her window, and she stared back. A sense of calm seeped heavily and rapidly into Shannon’s panic, calming her, steadying her, bringing her peace. Seeing the owl, brought Shannon comfort. The owl was not mom, but if it was, back, then maybe she could believe that mom was with her still.

Shannon shakily placed her right hand on her lower belly and her left on the owl pendant. No longer did she worry, or even notice the bandage. She nearly smiled on a small laugh. She had so much to look forward to, and she was still not going to waste a single minute. She moved quickly away from the window, headed downstairs to dad and Evan. Life was starting anew, and they were going to embrace every minute.

Minutes later, shouts of disbelief, followed by joyous laughter boomed from the house, and echoed throughout the farmyard. The barn owl flew to the oak, ruffled its feathers and settled in; content.