Little black book of good fortune

Each day at the same hour, Meems and Janice walked the stairwell for an hour briskly up a floor, then across the hallway, down another stairwell, and across to the other stairwell for about 100 times; chatting and amusing each other throughout. Conversations would range from the romance in their lives, the travel to a Mexican resort, to raising the kids and setting expectations. Meems was a mother of three, a 13, 11 and 10 year old - Anya, Blake, and Kari. Her husband had passed away two years prior and she was involved with a kind and loving man who was 16 years her senior.

Janice was a 45 year old mother of one who was in a long term relationship with Connor, who was referred to as dad by 10 year old Jessy, her piano playing and tik tok dancing daughter.

On this occasion, May 12, while walking the stairs they came across a little black book titled, Dreams, Reems, and Misfortune. Meems opened it up and saw that every last page was written and diagrammed extensively but without a name and only an address. 265 Happenstance Boulevard. At first she couldn’t make out what the writing was about but upon further exploration, she realized that it was a diary of notable moments, and exploratory thought by a woman about her challenge to live a stable and structured life while raising a daughter and committing lovingly to her husband of 12 years. She was trying to figure out how to motivate herself during a pandemic lockdown where inspiration and curiosity were the only way to pull through this tough time. She was furloughed and rested in bed trying to find inspiration through movies, podcasts, and Facebook. Little did she know that it was interaction with her friends that she was lacking that would inspire her to write and find purpose and drive. When she put her body in motion with energy, she felt a strong purpose to be more involved and share with her friends, returning happier and more fulfilled with her daughter and husband - home life. She wrote that, engagement with the outside through friends, gave her the will to be a better mom, wife, and person.

Meems googled the address to search for its rightful owner. Lexi Arrington showed up as the resident of the address listed. She decided to go in person to drop it off. She knocked on the door of the quaint Victorian home with a cobblestone walkway and waited for about 3 minutes. She didn’t hear any motion so she opened the mailbox to drop in the Little black book with a note of where it was found. She turned to walk back when the door opened and she was greeted by a tall white man in his senior years leaning on a black cane. He said Hello, how can I help you, to which Meems responded, hello, I came across a little black book with this address and would like to make sure it is returned to its rightful owner. The man looked in the mailbox and pulled out the little black book and said thank you, this is my late daughter’s diary. She passed away a week ago, having contracted CoVid, likely from the daycare she was employed at. Her daughter Stephanie had been looking for her mother’s diary, searching the house over, hoping to reminisce about her mother. He was explaining how thankful he was for having it returned when from behind the door appeared his granddaughter. She was curious to know what the interaction was about and who this person was grandpa was talking with.

Meems apologized for her loss and said it was fortuitous that an address was left in her mother’s black book. Stephanie opened it and looked to the last page where she read; sweetheart, if I pass away and never wake up to see your lovely face again, I want you to know that for as long as I’ve been your mother, from the womb to now, you have been the greatest blessing in my life. When I gave birth to you I felt a joy and gratitude that I had never before knew, a responsibility and purpose that entailed days, months and years of loving trials and curious exploration. You’ve made my life a colourful rainbow which overshadowed the rainy days. Stephanie, mom and dad are wholly devoted to you and so proud of who you are and will become. Never forget that I love you and will be watching you from above. I love you my turtle, my wonder, my delight. Times will be tough and as your adventure unfolds, please remember that you are guided by God’s love for you and as long as you follow him and His Word, you will never fail. With Him, you will always find purpose. Do not neglect your friends, let dad be a part of your life, cause at times you will want to push away. Recall the good times and lessons learned. We loved you with all our heart and mind and soul. You will grow up to be a woman of excellence, wisdom and beauty. Do not doubt yourself. For God is with you always. Goodbye my darling Stephanie. Mommy loves you.

Janice learned from Meems the next day that Stephanie hugged Meems so hard and wept that she was so grateful for the chance to read her mother’s diary. She knew it was a way to reconnect with her. Meems, being a reporter for the London Free Press asked Stephanie if she could write a story about this encounter and her mother’s life. Stephanie agreed. The following week there appeared a column titled Little Black Book which told the story about Stephanie and her mother and promised to follow up with the life of daughters who lost their mothers to CoVid.

The CoVid pandemic endured for another 8 months and Meems and Stephanie kept in touch with conversations about maternal love and loss and finding direction in life’s new challenges, simple and big, mundane and relevant. The mentor and mentee relationship was the impetus for Stephanie to further develop her writing and become a novelist of young women emerging as creative forces to be reckoned with out of the chrysalis of despair and emptiness. Stephanie honed her craft and made connections with editors and publishers in the fictionalized non fiction market and continued to follow her passsion to share personal stories. To be continued...