Twenty Five

A light blue sky with cottony clouds arched above a canopy of oak, birch, and maple trees. Small, green buds dotted the branches. Sun beams poked their way through the clouds and illuminated the rocky, mossy forest path. The woman breathed in deeply. A cool, earthy scent filled her nostrils. She was dressed unconventionally for a walk in the forest. She wore no shoes. The moss tickled the bottoms of her tanned, bare feet. She wore a rich plum, velvet off the single shoulder dress that came to her knees. Velvet fabric draped elegantly on her one shoulder. The dress was loosely fitted and ruched across the bodice. She wore simple gold hoops and a gold thread necklace with polished, clear quartz crystal beads. Her black hair was in its tousled and messy state down her back. She walked softly along the path; guided only by intuition.

She finally came to a meadow. It was ablaze with spring flowers in all colors: coral, yellow, blue, white, and light purple. The path went from being rocky and mossy to batted down grass. She came to a clearing. There was a tree stump. She strode toward it. The stump was set like a beautiful table. There were no table cloth or place mats. The top was silky smooth to touch, and the rings were evident. There were two plate settings with shiny, plain white china with gold rims. There were glass goblets for water and wine glasses with a gold leaf design. Silverware with shell handles were at home on either side of the plates. Silk, moss green napkins were folded into fans and placed upon the china plates. A glass pitcher of cold water sat in the middle of the stump along with a clear glass bottle of Merlot. The woman reached for the Merlot and removed the loosely fitted cork. The fragrance of black cherry, plum, vanilla, chocolate and spice wafted from the bottle. She poured some into the wine glass. The plum liquid was mellow, neither overly dry nor sweet. She sat on a stump chair and felt her shoulders relax with each sip of wine. She momentarily closed her eyes to enjoy the spring breeze.

“Hello, Kiddo.”

Her eyes jolted open. She hadn’t heard anyone approach. Standing off to the side of the table was a slightly built and lightly tanned man. He was about 5’8” tall. His dark chocolate brown hair grazed his shoulder and fell in slight, smooth waves. There was not a speck of grey. His beard was a lighter shade brown with no grey and trimmed. His sky blue eyes sparkled with tenderness and love. He wore a linen shirt and khaki pants. He was barefoot as well. He smelled spicy and woodsy with a touch lavender, spearmint, and musk.

She gasped.

“O my gosh. Terry.” She set her glass down, jumped up and ran over to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. It felt like home. A lump caught in her throat.

He pulled her back for a moment and looked into her espresso colored eyes.

“Please don’t cry. Have a seat. Let’s catch up.”

“You look wonderful, Terry. I have missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too, Miss Woo.”

She smiled at the mention of her pet name. It had been so long since someone called her that.

“It has been 25 years. You look wonderful.”

“Really? It has been 25 years? We lose track of time here. It really doesn’t seem like that long. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, please!”

“Ok.”

No sooner than the words were said, people dressed in linen clothes came out of the forest and arrived at their table. A basket of fresh fruit was set off to the side. A wooden platter of steaks was set in the center. A young lad brought over a wooden bowl of piping hot potatoes and small plate of butter that was molded into the shape of a flower. A little girl brought over a basket of small bread loaves and also a bowl of fire roasted vegetables. As soon as the food was set on the table, the people left.

Terry reached for her hand. They bowed their heads, and he gave thanks and blessed the food.

Both of them silently filled their plates.

The woman cut her steak and took a bite. It was tender, juicy, with just the right amount of spices, garlic, and butter.

“This is just like we used to make in the kitchen together!” she exclaimed.

Terry looked at her tenderly. “Yes. I know. Julie, look at me, please.”

She looked up at the mention of her name.

“What dear brother?”

He surveyed his youngest sister carefully. She may not have spoken much, but he could tell. His heart hurt, because he could feel it. It was in her eyes.

“I want you to stop.”

“Stop what?” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. Her lip quivered.

“Stop blaming yourself.”

He paused and observed her. She was slowly drinking her wine with intent.

“Julie, please put the glass down and look at me.”

“Why?” Her eyes were moist.

“Because you need to hear this. You need to know. It was not your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. I want you to know how much I loved you then and how much I still love you now. I never stopped loving you. Not for one second. Love doesn’t stop at death. It continues on the other side. I see and watch you all the time. You are loved far beyond your comprehension not only by me but also by God. Your life is a gift. You have a story to tell.”

“I miss you. It has been 25 long years. This has been the best date in my entire existence.”

“I know, sweet sister. I invited you here, because I knew you needed this for a short bit. But you cannot stay right now. Know that I love you and always will. We will see each other again. I promise.”

“But, I am not done. I have so much to tell you.”

“I love you………”

And she was falling………like someone pushed her over the edge of the forest into an abyss…….

She gasped and opened her eyes. Her eyes were moist. She drew in a big breath. Sun beams were poking through the red curtains. She felt a heavy weight on her feet. It was the grey tiger cat, and she was purring.

Julie sniffled, stretched, and gently removed the covers. She was in her tie dye sweat shorts and Weird Al concert t-shirt. Gone was the soft, velvet dress of her dream. She sat up and went over to open the curtains and window. A whoosh of a breeze smelling of lavender and spearmint greeted her and flapped the curtains. The papers on her night stand went flying to the floor. She went over to retrieve the papers. She found a note.

It said, “I love you Julie.”

She smiled and put the papers back on her night stand.

She contemplated her dream. She hadn’t seen her brother in a dream for a very long time—not since 2006 when their sister died.

She never really got over her brother’s death even after 25 years. He was there. She was here.

She didn’t realize her pain was that evident even in her dream.

“Open your heart, Miss Woo.”

She looked around. No one was there except the cat who meowed at her to indicate it was time for her breakfast.

She breathed in. She felt it. It felt like a warm kiss in her heart.

“Know that I love you. You’re never alone. I always watch you from up here.”

She looked around again. There was no one. The cat meowed a little more insistently and rubbed up against her leg.

After 25 years, a little spot began to melt in her heart.

Today, she would take a small step to heal. She clutched the memory of her dream date to her heart. She looked at the radiant sun. Breathe Julie. Breathe. You are loved.