Time Capsule

The orange smell of cardamom and cinnamon waft around me as red leaves crunch underneath my feet. I drag my shovel next to me, keeping my head low. It’s hard to look up at the beautiful scenery around me. Swirling wind kisses my face as pale sunlight creeps through the branches of trees. I long to return to the autumn when my mother was still alive. All of this beautiful scenery in New England is not the same without her. Without her vibrancy, or her wisdom in what makes autumn seem so beautiful.

“Mom,” I say against the lump in my throat. “Did you hear that I got a job promotion? I took your advice and talked to the boss. I’m making twenty dollars an hour now.”

I smile against the tears that pool in my eyes. The leaves blur, almost like they’re drowning. The red, orange and yellow colors meld into one color.

I hear, in the distance, the sound of the river. Roaring. Mom always liked to sit by the river and tell me stories of her first autumn with Dad. Their first kiss, the proposal. He walks beside me, silent. He’s lost most of his hair since Mom died. Even lost a little more weight. But there’s a serenity in his face. Maybe he feels a connection to her still, as if she’s not gone.

“Dad, I’m still hurting.” I sigh, kicking a lonely tree branch. It reminds me of my childhood.

“Me too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

I find that familiar old river and I sit by the oak tree like Mom and I would all the time. The umbrella that looms over me is a plethora of colors. Golden sunlight bleeds through the leaves, giving off a fairy-like glow. Or, at least, when I was a child, I thought they were fairies dancing joyfully. As resplendent and colorful everything is right now. Everything is so bare without her. Funny, how beautiful everything seems. Even though the leaves are at the twilight of their lives. Even though everything around me is dying. Even though everything is falling for winter. I remember how beautiful mom looked on her bed. During her final breaths, her eyes sparkled like diamonds. I knew she saw something. Whatever it was, I wouldn’t know. But she did see something and the permanent smile on her face reminded me of our days here at the river.

I take the shovel and begin to dig near the oak tree. Dad stays in the background and sits down. He seems lost in himself. In his own memories of her.

I continue digging, but then I find the box and my heart feels that profound pang in my body that brings me to my knees. Our old time capsule. We made a promise together that we would find the time capsule twenty years later. No matter what, I was going to stick to that promise and so here I am. My hands tremble as I hold the wooden box in my hand. Taking the key, I open it and smile when I see the first thing that appears.

My Baby Marley,

Today is not an easy day for me. Writing this letter isn’t an easy one. I’m sure by now you probably know all about my pain and suffering. I might not even be alive anymore. I didn’t want to tell you today since you love autumn so much and you love being here. Why would I sully your beautiful experience with this news? Marley, I have breast cancer. I just diagnosed a few weeks ago. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me in the future, but I just want you to be strong. I want you to grow up to be a fine woman. And the next time you come here to open this time capsule, I want you to take my ashes and spread them in the river. Always keep autumn in your heart. Even though winter follows, the spring will come. And I’ll always live in your heart.

                                                                                                                            Love,

                                                                                                     Mom