The Miracle of Love

This story is selected as Editor’s Choice

“Great!” I said, sarcastically, looking up at the sky.

Something cold fell on my nose, making me flinch.

Shaking my head in disapproval, muttering curses to myself, I got off the sidewalk, fishing for the umbrella I carried in my gigantic bag.

The drop of water was now hanging dangerously at the tip of my nose, threatening to fall to the floor.

I considered lifting my head to save it but by then, it was too late.

Instantly, everything around me stopped; the chaotic traffic, drivers frantically trying to get home before the downpour, gossiping ladies, whining kids. It all came to a standstill.

Silence.

I focused on the drop of water, still falling, in slow motion, like in a movie. It splashed on the road with a deafening plop, bursting into tiny, colorful droplets.

And then, like nothing had happened, everything started moving again. The honking got louder and the heels got noisier. I looked around, trying to see if anyone had seen what I just had. It was beautiful, the droplets on the road, vibrant on the otherwise dull grey.

I was still looking down, umbrella still closed, the slight drizzle fogging my glasses, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Mom”, I said, without turning around.

Normally, people would wonder who it was. People would think it was a stalker, or a person asking for directions. Others would stiffen or jump in fright at the suddenness of it.

But I knew.

“Surprise!” she said, as I slowly turned to face her.

Hardly a surprise, really. Her cold, delicate fingers gave it away. I’ve known those fingers on my shoulder for years.

Surely, she knew that.

“Mom!” I said again, my face turning into a slow smile. “I almost thought you forgot me!”

“Oh, rubbish!” She said, waving her hand at me. “I saw you last week”

“No, you didn’t” I frowned. I tried thinking about the last time she came to see me. It definitely wasn’t seven days ago. I’d have remembered.

“Yes, I did”. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

I felt the powerful surge of love bursting through my veins.

I loved my mother more than I could express. It was so strong, that it almost hurt.

“Look!” I said, turning and pointing at the mysterious rain drop on the ground.

It was gone.

“Oh”, I exclaimed, facing my mother.

But she was gone too.

It’s strange that I still want to see my mother every day, still want her to love me, to protect me.

I want to live with her again, instead of in my own house.

I’m 35 years old.

I have a child and a husband.

I’ve been divorced before. Twice.

So much of my life has gone by.

But that’s not why it’s strange.

It’s because, I haven’t seen her since 17^th January, 20 years ago.

Because, that’s the day she died.

__END__