The Bandana

The Bandana

It was a cold Sunday afternoon as she sat at the table staring out into what felt like an abyss. The big oak table was heavy underneath her forearms as she pondered. She took in the strong smell of stain and poly, finding some brief joy in the fact that she had recently brought the old table back to life. This year required she keep her hands busy as much as possible. Since last March it had been too quiet and too loud all at the same time.

She struggled as her mind drifted into grief. Whenever the house was this quiet her mind wandered to dark places. The year had been beyond difficult for so many around her that she often felt guilty for feeling what she felt. She thought about the quietness, how the sounds of her children would take it all away, but this year her house became empty every other week, no children running, laughing and playing. So often she was left alone with just her thoughts. The quiet would have been a gift in years past but now it felt like a punishment.

She hadn’t worked in a year. In fact, she barely had left the house other than for quick errands and to attend his visitation. Her life as she knew it was no longer. And she felt it in a way she never dreamed she would. When she would feel like this in the past she would reach out to him. Now as she sat staring at her phone wanting nothing more than to talk with him, visions of him flooded her mind. She saw him laying there, perfectly dressed in his favorite overalls looking so peaceful. He had a scarlet-colored bandana tied around his neck. The bandana struck her as soon as she walked through the crowded funeral home as it was clear it had been strategically placed to cover the wound that took his life. Her thoughts drifted and she started to feel the familiar pain again, not just the pain of losing him but knowing he died at his own hand, alone and depressed. Possibly the most painful part was that she knew it was just a decision made in a bout of intensity and he likely did not intend to die.

She worked to refocus herself. “Just don’t go there” she told herself. It was something that had become all too familiar. Grief had surrounded her this year, there had been so much loss that she no longer knew how to function on certain days.

She allowed her mind to drift elsewhere to visions of her youngest daughter riding across their immense field on a horse of her very own. Her youngest, Elle, had dreamed of a horse for so long and she wanted nothing more than to fulfill that dream. She knew her finances would likely never make it possible, but those visions kept the dream alive in her heart and lifted her spirits for a time. All she wanted in life was to watch her two, beautiful daughters be happy and at peace. She never wanted them to feel the sadness he must have felt. And she knew that the horse and barn wouldn’t just be for them, but for her and her dream. She envisioned others coming to the farm to ride the horses and heal their souls. And with that, her mind overflowed with "what ifs". Would something like that have saved him? Would that bandana have been used to protect him from dusty trail rides rather than hiding the wound that took his life? She couldn’t help but think of him at these times. She had lost so many people in the past but this was different. It ached in a way she couldn’t describe.

She found herself constantly struggling to fill the time. Her house was a mess of unfinished projects, ways she had found to occupy her hands and mind. She found herself deconstructing the old house with no real plan for how she would put it all back together. She sat at the table and looked around. She knew she had to move her body or her mind would take her on yet another journey through grief. She decided it was time to declutter and in turn make it through another day.

She started in the back room. Toys from the past came tumbling down from a high shelf. Her girls hadn’t touched any of those things since they discovered electronics, but she knew somehow if she discarded them it would be noticed when they came back home. She looked through box after box failing at her intended goal of decluttering. Then she saw it. It appeared small and black but was loosely covered in a bandana. It had been tucked neatly on the highest shelf. The bandana hiding it was different and it caught her eye immediately. It was covered in cardinals, red and striking and hard to miss. Cardinals had always been her favorite bird. They had been a sign to her that something was going to change, things were going to get better. She stood and stared, not remembering that bandana. She was almost frozen in time as she wracked her brain wondering where it could have come from. Had she picked it up at a thrift store in a daze? Most likely. She moved on to the next box forgetting momentarily about the bandana and what it may have contained. She went through three or four more boxes and the bandana caught her eye again. Getting to it would require her fetching the tall ladder and it was a blistery mess outside. She really didn’t want to venture out into the tundra. She tried to reach it but had no luck. She moved on. Two suitcases later she felt brave enough to head out to the shed for the ladder.

Once inside she set up the cold, metal ladder and climbed up. The bandana was striking, dark black with bold cherry-colored cardinals. She felt a strange twinge as she thought about its significance. Of all things, a bandana with cardinals. Her symbols of hope covering something that now held such a terrible memory. She grabbed for the bandana and immediately noticed what it held. A small, black notebook slowly emerged. What could it be? She had no idea where this had even come from. She climbed down the ladder with the little book resting in her hand and the bandana on the floor below her.

She just sat for a moment, feeling the book in her hands and thinking again of him. She missed his friendship so very much. Many didn’t understand their relationship and likely never would. She slowly opened the book. The inside front cover said the following, “For you, Eve. I hope this helps make some of your dreams come true. Love, Andrew.” The tears began to fall. She could no longer hold back the grief she felt. As she looked through the pages she saw the design they had discussed so many times . He had a vision and she was going to help make it a reality. He claimed it could not only help others but also make them both some money. She looked through the design and while she knew she could create it she felt overwhelmed at doing it alone. She continued through the book, it was mostly rough drawings of the design and random song lyrics. She moved slowly, taking in what she had left of him. Wedged securely between the last of the pages was a tightly folded check. The check was from an equipment company and was made out to him. In the memo line the following was written, “Payment for ownership rights to design #334”. As she unfolded the check she saw writing on the back. “Pay to the Order of Eve M. Shaffer” was written clearly on the back with Andrew’s signature below it. She looked twice at both sides of the check and realized that her friend had made their plans reality and in turn earned $20,000. She sat back hard on the couch in complete disbelief. She found herself in a rare state, one she had only experienced during her oldest daughter’s birth. While she laughed and cried she looked down to the floor. And there it was, right in front of her, the black bandana covered in bright red cardinals. Her sign of hope.

Months later she watched her youngest daughter sprint through the field on her graceful Black Stallion, both of their manes blowing in the wind and she thought again of Andrew. The magnolia tree she had planted in his honor was blooming and the radiant white flowers stood out against that once mysterious bandana that hung proudly from the branches above. It was her sign of peace and a lasting reminder of the joy he had brought to her life.