The Unexpected

All she wanted was to move past the past. (Sigh) Here we go again, I just need one peaceful night’s sleep, she said to herself. Ever since the therapist gave me this assignment, I cannot rest. I keep thinking of the million ways to begin this journey but am I ready. “Thank”, “You”, “Thank”, “You”, she said aloud on her way to the bathroom. She looks in the mirror “Hmph! Rode hard and put away wet … or so the saying goes”. She takes her time being gentle with herself as she showered. In some ways it was as if she was trying to rinse it all away. Her entire past, up until this point, and start all over. She closed her eyes and held her mouth open, standing under the perfectly tempered water letting it roll over her head to toe; blowing out deep long breaths; releasing chaos, confusion, hurt, pain and fear. Thinking about the day to come. She would have to eventually face the assignment from her therapist, “I have an assignment for you this week, I need you to write a letter; from your younger self to you…” ‘Yeah that’s a piece of cake’, she laughed to herself.

Done showering, she took pleasure in massaging the shea butter into her chestnut skin; one of the characteristics she loved about herself; taking time to acknowledge each part of her. Comfort being the order of the day, she chose her favorite sweats and a tee that accentuated another of her assets, her fluffy, full figure. Fresh dressed, she was ready to take on the adventure; inspiration and writing tools (one of her favorite things) if she were to begin journaling and commit to this therapeutic breakthrough. “Hmph!”, she snorted to herself as she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.

At her favorite bookstore, she grabbed a macchiato and perused the aisles for a new read before heading to the journals and pens. She would need them both to really get inspired. She giggled to herself, as if I do not have a bookshelf full of barely touched journals already. Oh well! Another, installation to my ‘suspense’ collection was the pick of the day. The journals, always plentiful, never failed to bring on a bit of anxiety; choosing the perfect one to chronicle the thoughts of her ever-chaotic mind. Nothing. Not one of them spoke to her.

This thrift store should be a good distraction from the first failed venture, she thought. “Maybe I can find some cool, of beat, accessory today; Good Afternoon ladies, how’s it going?” Ooh, nice purse, “I’ll take this, and these earrings, nice.” Just as she was ready to head to the register, she saw the small display of books and what looked like rustic or antique writing journals. Hmmm, maybe? she shrugged and walked over. She gently ran her hand along some of the books and decided, at that moment, that black is what would suit her best for the mission at hand. “The element of mystery; privacy; taboo; yup, black it is”. She picked up a black, textured journal with a leather tie closure, flipped the pages and decided that was the one. “ The perfect little black book”, she giggled, and smiled to herself and proceeded to the register. Pleased with her selections, she thanked the cashier, and as always said “See you guys soon, have a good one”, as she departed to find her sharpie pens.

“Red Wine, check! Cigarette, check! Candle, check! Pens, and fresh journal; my little black notebook of wonders”, she said as she placed each item on the patio table, sat down, and put her feet up on the chaise. “Ancestors, thank you in advance for guiding me and supporting me through what may be a very emotional, life changing, journey. A revelation of myself, to myself; seeing my truth. I need you with me to comfort and guide me. I need your wisdom, your love and your shoulders. Thank you for loving me in life and in spirit”, she said, as she lit a candle; “gratitude”. She placed the notebook in her lap and took a moment to take in the beauty of the sky, lying her hands flat on the cover, breathing in new breath, fresh air, healing. “Okay, here goes”. She opened he book, flipped gingerly and slowly through the pages, and was startled; “what the …”. An old, yellowing piece of paper, a letter:

Dear kind spirit,

I know if you’ve found this book, it was meant for you. There are no happenstances or by chance happenings in this life. I know, I’ve lived mine to the fullest and have had it all and nothing at all. I bought this journal soon after I learned I had not much longer to live. I’d hoped to write my story, to share it with the world. I never took that chance. I was a lot of things in my life, but a wordsmith was not one of them. Before I took my week of solace to find peace in my last days I packed up all my treasures and asked that they be donated to my favorite shop on Sumware St. each box to be opened exactly one year apart from the other. In each box, I chose special items to leave as gifts to their recipients. My way of leaving a legacy, I guess. Each gift is accompanied by a letter to be verified by my estate, so the recipient’s have no issue with moving forward with the gift.

(“What gift, the book? This is too much”, she said, as she turned the letter over and took a sip of wine. “Mmmm that’s good, good pick.”)

In the pages of this journal, you’ll find no words but these, and a check written out in the amount of $20,000. A blank check signed to cash. Only redeemable by the person who has this journal, and a receipt of purchase dated no less than five years from the date of this letter, which is only known by my estate. My only wish is that you use the funds to do one thing that will bring you peace, happiness, and enable you to enjoy life in some way. Enjoy this gift kind spirit, I know you need it and deserve it. I also know, you will leave a legacy of your own for the world. I hope this brings you closer to it.

Mr. Nabode’

“Wait a minute … What? Get outta here”, she said to herself as she looked around and began thumbing through the pages. There it was, tucked so neatly and tight into the page that there was no way it would have fallen out accidently. A check. A $20,000 check, just as the letter had stated. She sat the book down and examined the check for a minute. She placed it neatly within the pages again with just a tiny bit left out, so she’d find it easily. Looking to the sky she said quietly, “Thank You!” as tears began to slowly well up in her eyes and fall, Thank You!’ she said again, and sat back to sip her wine and stare at nothing in particular. I am so grateful, she thought to herself, and began to repeat between each sip. Finally, she lit the cigarette and enjoyed another glass of wine. She enjoyed that moment until sunset. Back inside, she sat the book on the nightstand, gently placing her hand on the cover and saying, “thank you, I am forever grateful; nothing in life is happenstance”. She turned out the light and got comfortable. I’ll go to the bank in the morning, she thought as she began to drift off to sleep.

Sitting up in her bed the next morning, she looked over to her nightstand just to be sure she hadn’t been dreaming. “Nope, still there, she sighed, as she breathed deep and rolled her neck to relax. She felt the storm of anxiety rising; Every time she thought about making decisions; important decisions; the storm starts to brew. “C’mon Zurai … Breathe! She rubbed her thighs and rocked herself for comfort. “You got this. It’s time to reveal your legacy.”