Snipet #20

For Sara, it seemed as if Evelyn's thirteenth birthday came on as suddenly as an April shower. It was certainly not something she was ignorant of, yet somehow it shocked her, left her almost speechless in it's abrupt arrival. She was totally aware that Evelyn was growing up. She lived with the girl for thirteen years. It was hard not to notice those kind of changes, yet they seemed so unexpected at the same time.

As she gathered the ingredients for her traditional sponge cake, she let her mind wander off to the past. She didn't dwell on the fact that she was alone, she didn't allow herself to think of Evelyn's father very often, but it was inevitable on Evelyn's birthday that she would think of the man who was her lover. Sara had not heard from him, hadn't seen him since the night he left. She had considered trying to find him. She consulted with a private investigator, but the price was very high, both financially and emotionally. She decided to just carry on without him and if he returned, then she would deal with that, but he never did. It were really almost as if he hadn't existed, and if it weren't for the evidence of Evelyn, Sara would have thought she had dreamed him up of a summer evening.

Sara had to come to terms quickly with her situation. Her baby needed her and she hadn't hesitated. It was just her way, to give her all to whomever was right before her, needing her at any given moment. Evelyn needed her attention, completely and unconditionally, and that's just what Sara was prepared to give. She had immersed herself in motherhood and wore the role easily. She felt it was what she was born to do. After a while, in her mind, the absence of a man became less of a burden and more of a blessing. She enjoyed being Evelyn's whole world and not having to share the raising of this beautiful, precocious child with anyone else. The problem with Sara's single status was that it was more of a burden to Evelyn than to anyone else, yet Sara seemed unaware of how her daughter becoming her everything might be weighing the child down. She certainly was aware of how Evelyn's father's absence affected HER, yet didn't give much thought to how it might make Evelyn feel.

Sara was tired, which was to be expected. She was tired from mothering, she was tired from all the energy she put into forgetting, she was exhausted by trying to fit in. She was just tired. Not that she didn't love many aspects of her life, especially Evelyn, yet the effort of being Sara was at times difficult to bear. She spent many sleepless nights with her eyes closed, lying on her back in her bed, hoping to absorb the wisdom of her dearly departed female relatives. She believed if she lay still enough, if she concentrated enough, maybe she would learn some of the things they knew so well, the things she wasn't aware that she knew deep down inside her, but were long forgotten. She would wake up as ignorant of the wisdom of the ages as she was the night before, and feel like a failure. She thought she was just too distracted or unworthy to receive the gifts she felt were just beyond her grasp. She believed she could almost smell them, the clove, cinnamon and cardamom floating in the air just before her, dangling effortlessly just out of reach. These blessings were very real to Sara and had substance and scent and she longed for them with every ounce of her being.

What bothered Sara even more was that she was sure that Evelyn had received these gifts without any effort on her part at all. She was just born with them, just knowing without knowing how or why. Just knowing. She loved her daughter, but a small part of her was envious of how Evelyn embraced life, how she wasn't afraid to be who she was, how she didn't see the need to spend countless hours concentrating on forgetting and ignoring the world around her. Sara got to the point where she truly believed that during Evelyn's birth, the child had taken from Sara all of that which was magic and light and took it for herself. It hadn't dawned on her yet that she could learn a great deal from her daughter's fearlessness and love of life. Parents didn't learn from their children, or did they, she would wonder.

Sara had always admired Evelyn. From the day the child was born, she held her in very high regard. She believed that the wind had raged the night Evelyn was born for a reason. Evelyn was different, and that was good. Who wanted an unimaginative child who was like everyone else? Not Sara. Sara loved that the Wolf was in her daughter. She may have been envious, yet she was not jealous of her, and showered her daughter with all the love she could, everyday. She thought it wise to stay on the good side of such strong magic, and to be touched by it, even for a moment, was worth everything.

All the sacrifice, all the effort. Everything.