Fragments

Coffee spurting out of her nostrils, mouth wide open with laughter flooding the room coming from Katy who loudly proclaimed, "I even found one stuck to the outside of the expired Heinz ketchup bottle in the back of her fridge! Ketchup sandwich, ketchup sandwich, ketchup sandwich is all it said!"

"Well I don't find any of this funny, it's like she was losing her mind and none of us paid attention. None of us cared enough to maybe stop and ask what was happening."

"That's just like you Dot to want to blame others for, for, well just about for everything while you sit in your ivory tower unblemished. You never had a clue either."

Chuckling quietly to himself the brother of these three uniquely individual sisters, Michael said "I think she had a lot of secrets. I think she had a lot to say. I think that by doing what she did, it was the only way for her to get our attention and to hold it long enough that we might listen and to actually know who she is, who she was and who she dreams of becoming."

Katy's snappy comeback to Michael's contribution in this sibling outing, "Well that's some pretty deep shit coming from the silent one of the tribe!" At that everyone roared with laughter and told their stories.

"Julie - tell us about cleaning out the car - what a horrible mess, and the smell. The smell like - like someone had died a thousand times in it."

Julie looked down at her trembling hands, tears well up in her eyes she finally looks up to the three characters sitting in the booth before her. Sighing Julie started describing the fragments, strewn about the car. The glove box wide open and filled, the visors half down and covered, even the back windshield had scraps, fragments that were moist from condensation - pieces were everywhere. "When I had her car towed to the detail-shop they asked what to do with the remnants scattered throughout. I told them to put them into a container and someone would be by to pick them up. I have no idea what to do with them at this point."

Alice approached the booth with a smile and the little black book that held the tab for lunch and asked "who's the lucky one" as she thrusted her arm into the center of the sibling circle. Silence fell as they all stared at each other. Lunch was ended and for now so was the topic of conversation.

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Weeks later, Dot, seeking to close the necessary transaction that would allow everyone to move forward went to the detail-shop where Julie had the car towed. She paid the bill after being annoyed by the pimply faced 17-year-old boy behind the counter. "Dude, that car was righteously ripe. I could tell something died. Here's the box of stuff and the bill is $428. It cost extra cause it took three times to get that smell of death out of it." "You're a rude little prick, you know that? Who raised you - a bunch of anti-social animals?!" Paying the inflated tab of $428 Dot quickly texted her sibs letting them know just exactly how much their share was. She started to say more to them about her experience with the little prick but opted not to, saving the story for the next sibling lunch - if there was one.

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Alice bounds toward the booth and enthusiastically greets the patron siblings of the small but popular pub. "I heard about your mom. Wow. Who knew? Did any of you know? Wow, it's really something."

The siblings, laden with unusual silence looked at each other and said back to Alice, still with a broad smile on her face, "we didn't know, none of us knew."

"For years, our mom had jotted down things on post-its, into her phone, on napkins, in her date book, everywhere. We all just thought she was afraid of loosing her memory or something and wanting to stay on top of her game she would write things down. She always wanted to stay on top of her game. She'd write down names she thought were interesting or unique, she'd write down silly sayings when she heard them. Once when I was helping clean out her deep freeze, I found a note taped to a pound of butter. She always had a lot of butter. The note said, 'well butter my butt and call me a biscuit'. I thought it was so stupid that I threw it away. Just threw it away. And now look..."

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With a gust of wind and a fresh almost electrified flash of energy the pub's door burst open. And there she was. "Hello family!" It was her. She was back. Back to hug her family and tell her story. Her story that took her on a whirlwind journey for the past six months.

Cynthia told Alice "lunch is on me and I want you to join us. I have so much to tell you all." With tears and hugs and laughter and maybe a few drinks - they were at a pub after all- Cynthia told her story.

"I always felt I was to be an author ever since 5th grade. And I'm sure you all thought I was loosing my mind with all the notes scattered around my car, my home, even my freezer. Oh, the car. I got the call from the publisher while driving down Route 6, you know the curve where we've all hit something. I was so excited to get the news that I didn't see the family of skunks crossing the road and they surely did not see me. Do you know how many of them I killed? I felt horrible but couldn't wait around. I called the police and told them about the accident and called for an Uber. I had to catch the next flight to New York to meet the publisher and begin the tour. They gave me no time to prepare. It is amazing that a whole new life has been birthed because of me taking all my fragments with notes and words and inspirations and silliness and names and making a compilation from them in that little black moleskin notebook that Julie gave me for Mother's Day. I figured I had nothing to lose so I sent it off to a publisher to read and now - well, I have so much to thank you all for. You all, even you Alice, are my inspiration for telling the world what life is really about. Relationship. Fat ones, thin ones, silent ones, helpful ones, frustrating ones, dangerous ones, provocative ones, tender ones, loving ones - all of them. And now I'm free to tell the story of the single most important thing in life. Like the movie 'City Slickers' when the rugged wore out cowboy lifted that one gloved finger up - indicating that one thing that gave life purpose. Now I'm free to spread the word that gives life purpose. Relationship."