Member-only story
Connecting the Dots
Life will always find its own ways of connecting the dots.
Mrs. Samson looks at the letter UPS had just delivered to her. There was no return address. She went back to her chores after putting the letter in the mailbox. Her mind was on that letter as she knelt to attend to her garden. Suddenly she tears off the plastic gloves, drops the garden shovel in the freshly dug soil, snatches the letter from the mailbox, and marches inside.
Sitting down in a comfortable leather padded armchair, then tearing the envelope open. She read the letter, then slowly it fell from her grasps on the area rug. Tears fill her eyes. “No!” she weeps softly. “She didn’t! She couldn’t!” Grabbing the box of Kleenex off the end table, she wipes her eyes, then picks up the cordless and calls Nancy her older daughter.
In minutes Nancy rushes over, calling out, “Mom!” as she enters the living room. Mrs. Samson sat on the sofa crying, using Kleenex to wipe her eyes and nose.
She points to the letter on the floor as Nancy rushes towards her. Nancy took the letter up, then read, “Dear Mom, if you are reading this, that means I am gone to a place where I can be ME, instead of being who you want me to be. All my life you pushed me in the shadow of all my sisters and brothers. I was never allowed to live in my own shadow and if I can’t be myself with my own shadow…
