Page 53 of Never Enough

Resuming the awful letter staining my hands, I peel the envelope open with now steady fingers. I pull out the single sheet. The handwriting is familiar and jagged. Each pen stroke blurs as I read. Each sentence is a punch to the gut.

“Oh my darling,“ it starts.

Drip. Drip.

I.

Can’t.

Breathe.

Still, I read, hoping beyond hope that the letter isn’t what I think. That it’s all a joke. Yet, it’s not a joke, and each word I read from her letter steals the breath from my lungs.

“Light she was and like a fairy

And her shoes were number nine

Herring boxes, without topses

Sandals were for Clementine”

-

I pause my reading.

As if transported back to nine years ago, I can almost hear mom sing this to me as I wake up confused.

Without my conscious decision, mom’s voice haunts my memory, and I continue reading.

“Oh my darling, oh my darling

Oh my darling, Clementine

You are lost and gone forever

Dreadful sorry, Clementine.

-

Drove she ducklings to the water

Ev’ry morning just at nine

Hit her foot against a splinter

Fell into the foaming brine

-

Oh my darling, oh my darling

Oh my darling, Clementine

You are lost and goneforever

Dreadful sorry, Clementine

-

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