Music of the Heart
Leah sat with her mother Nadine surrounded by boxes. She sighed impatiently, her brown curls flipping in her huff. She rolled her brown eyes trying not to look at the clock again. It felt as if this would take even HER lifetime to finish.
“Do you need all this—stuff?” She grumped. Leah smacked at one of the old taped up containers trying to reseal it. She pushed it away in frustration. Its old, stained side crinkled absorbing her rebuff. It tried to stick and stay shut but failed. The tape lolled along one edge with shame.
“I might.” Nadine said slowly as she lovingly put the box back in its stack. Her smile was small and wistful. She combed her snow white hair away from her gentle old face. Blue eyes crinkled with remembering as she put items into their brown sarcophaguses.
“Mom. They have stuff: plenty of stuff; stuff to do, read, play: games, billiards, a piano…” Leah tried not to be so rough with her mother’s things but it had been two days. Nadine was insisting on studying each item before putting it away. She organized and reorganized box after box. Leah was regretting not hiring movers.
“Not MY stuff. Not MY memories. Leah, you’ve sold my home and my furniture; even some clothes that you didn’t think I’d miss.” She looked sadly at her daughter. “Leave me my memories. It won’t be long before they’re gone too. THEN you may throw them out…as angrily and quickly as you like. But for now, understand that sentiment is the music of my heart.”
“Fine. But we’re getting rid of this …crap..broken…” and as Leah raked through a pile of junk, she came across a little music box. It was a tiny dancing clown in a small square circus tent. Each side of the box had a different character painted on it: a strong man with a pink and orange uni-tard and a (now faded) purplish brown handlebar mustache, an elephant with a polka-dotted saddle and a seal balancing a striped ball on the end of its nose. Then there was the clown. It was the only piece that moved, jiggling in red and white striped pants, a pink shirt with silver buttons and a white and pink spotted dunce cap. Its face was painted with bright blue eyes and cherry lips. In his hand he held a small ball. Leah noticed a couple of screws had been removed but replaced crooked giving the tiny box a jolly limp: like all the characters had had a little too much fun.
“THAT—“Nadine said defiantly. “Is my life. I got it as a gift in Europe and she snatched it from her daughter.
“When were you in Europe Mom?”
“Oh, I was young; had only been dating your daddy a short while.”
“Did he go with you?” Leah was genuinely surprised not to know this about her mom.
“No. And I almost didn’t come back.” Nadine stroked the elephant with her gnarled index finger.
“There was a young man; a wonderful boy.” Her cheeks flushed at his memory. “His father worked in a tannery near Florence, Italy. Marco.” She sighed at the sound of his name. She almost sang it. Leah sat very still. “He was tall and thin. His eyes were shiny, black and bottomless. He was smart, clever and funny. FUH-NY” Nadine’s smile spread across her face causing Leah to grin also. “Oh and romantic! Absolutely beautiful. I fell in love with him. I stayed with his family for several weeks. Then he asked me to stay…longer.”
“And?” Leah crossed her legs Indian style. She looked very much like a child; Nadine’s little girl once more, if only for a moment.
“Four weeks turned into six months. I was torn. I missed your father but I couldn’t tell him why I couldn’t come home. He wrote every day; letters upon letters, poems; wonderful, loving words.”
“But you stayed” Leah said slowly, almost accusingly.
“I loved Marco. He was passionate. He was exciting, dangerous and reckless. I shook when he even looked my way.” She giggled. “I shake even now. Silly old woman. But I was trying to decide. Your father was true and gentle. He was loving, kind and honest. His lips and his kiss were so soft and could be felt for days…Oh I missed him. One day a package came. Marco had tried to hide it from me, but his bratty sister found it and showed me. It was from The States; your dad. Here is the note.” and she pulled a faded paper from underneath:
My Dearest,
I struggle to understand what has detained you- or rather who.
My arms ache without you in them. There are no words that
can bring you home to me. You must choose.
If you love him; if he is the music of your heart, then you should stay. But do
so knowing that no matter what; you are mine. The music will never sound the same if you are not here to help me sing it. Keep this and think of me. Remember
I love you
Always
The tears drove down her cheeks fiercely; her whole body seemed to quake with sorrow.
“I was distraught and cried for hours. Marco tried to console me as did his family. He told me he loved me. He wanted to hold me forever. I moped for days. He bought a cute little music box that played Ave Maria- You know how I love that song. I loved those boys so very much. I didn’t know how I would ever survive without them in my life. After several days, I discovered Marco with another girl from town. He was whispering to her, I imagine the same words he’d whispered to me for all those weeks. He kissed her. I came home, to your father with his music box. But I made sure I would never forget my Marco. Beautiful Marco.”
“You settled.” Leah nearly whispered.
“No. I realized where the music in my heart was played.” Nadine wiped her soft cheek and held the trinket loosely in her hands. Her gaze drifted far away; to Florence, Italy and a boy from long ago.
“May I?” Leah dared to touch the box. Her mother let it go.
On the bottom was engraved “The Dance of the Clowns” (Leah remembered her mother playing it on the piano when she was small) but when Leah gently turned the tarnished old knob, the flat, frail, tinkling that trickled from the musical was “Ave Maria”. The little man in the box didn’t gleefully jump up and down with his knees knocking and bouncing. He moved slowly, almost gracefully like a ballerina.
Nadine touched her mother’s hand. Without a word, she began to wrap the “Greatest Love on Earth” in bubble paper and sweetly placed her mother’s memories in a box.
See? I have a gentle side. I loved writing this piece. I hope it touched you and made you smile. Thank you for sharing in this with me.
