Three Sisters
by Maggie Nerz Iribarne
(this is part III. Read Three Sisters from the beginning)
Supernova
To Daddy, and Mom,
Don’t think I’ve missed out, dying at 30. I’ve done some good. I’ve even been in love. Jacob -a homeless man – caught my eye on the food line. Afterwards, I walked around pouring coffee. He said, “How kind of you, mam.” It was that mam that caused me to sit down. We talked for an hour. He’d once been a person with a job (a teacher!), a home, then he lost everything. He even had a son. A back surgery caused an addiction and the addiction caused him to steal. He lost his job, his wife, his son, his home. As he told me this, his tears fell. I reached across the table and held his hands. He moved in with me a month later. No one expects a saint like me to love a homeless man, a drug addict. No one expects a saint like me to steal or “borrow” as I told myself-for love, but I did. I was so wrapped up I’ll admit I made mistakes, lost touch with everyone, especially Cassie and Laura, and you, Daddy. It’s time to leave that behind in the darkness.
I am thinking of playing with Cassie and Laura underneath the pine trees in the front yard, sunlight searching through branches. We had plastic baskets left from Easter. We filled them with tuna sandwiches and pretzels. I wheeled my dolls in the wooden stroller-the one Cassie threw down the cellar steps. We sat on the big quilt from the cedar closet, pine needles poking through.
I am thinking of our bottle club. We dug up old blue and gold and purple bottles in the woods. Their lips chipped, labels ragged. We sang, “Bottles bottles! We love bottles!”
Flashes of light. One day the wind came, blew it all away. Cassie left, Laura married. I found myself alone – forgotten? I cut off my hair, gave away all of my nice things and went to fill my loneliness with strangers. You never have to worry about the poor abandoning you. There are always more of them, an endless supply.
I am coming. I am at peace. It’s time to slip away. My sisters shine above me. At last, we are together, a constellation of three bright stars. Their warm hands lock above my cold clasped fingers. I absorb their light, break off, explode into nothingness.
Ada
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