I looked around the house for my seven-year-old daughter Allyson. She wasn’t in her bedroom or in her toy room or in her study room. I had searched everywhere in the house. The kitchen, the first hall, the second hall, the living room, everywhere, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. Then I thought of one last place, somewhere she never went to her mother’s room. I walked inside her mother’s room, to find her crying silently in the middle of her mother’s bed. She had her head buried in her knees, which were folded against her chest.
‘Ally!” I called out to her. ‘What are you doing, honey?’
‘The kids at school bully me. I never want to go to school again.’ I climbed up on the bed and sat cross-legged beside her.
‘Are you sure you never want to go to school again?” I asked her.
‘Nope!’ She puffed her cheeks.
‘Well, I just got a phone from the school that they are hosting an art exhibition tomorrow.’
‘Really?’ her eyes shined with excitement.
‘Yeah. Too bad you don’t wanna go to the school.’
‘On second thoughts,” she got up. “I think I will go to school tomorrow.’
‘Your choice.’
‘But daddy…’ she sat back again. “The kids will bully me.’
‘Well, then you have to fight them, right?’
‘How? They are so much stronger than me.’
‘You want to hear a story?’
‘I thought you just told me yesterday that you had told me every story you knew.”
‘Well, there is one more. You want to hear it or not?’
‘Which story?’
‘The story of your mother, Catalina.’ Her eyes sparkled with excitement. And so, I began. ‘It happened about five years ago. I couldn’t find Catalina. She was supposed to meet me at three outside the gate of our house. But she wasn’t there when I came to pick her. I called out her name and after waiting for few minutes she finally came running outside.
“Sorry, I am late. Your daughter is a complete tantrum maker!” she was holding you, daughter in her arms.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine.”
“And you?”
“As fine as I can ever be.” She spoke in a low voice. “So, where are we going?”
“We were going to the movies but you are late so, plan cancelled.”
“So what are we doing now?”
“Whatever you say. This is your day after all.” She could hear the shakiness in my voice and she somehow figured out that I was going to cry.
“Don’t tell me you are going to cry again, you promised me you won’t!”
“Yeah, well I am breaking my promise.” She gave me a hug, and I hugged her back. “You’re dying, and I know nothing of your past, Cat.”
“Past’s past, Caspian. Now, I have you, and we’ll be together, forever. So, who cares about the past?” She put up that brave face, she always did in hard situations. I never knew how she managed to keep up that smile even in the most difficult situations. It was like magic, how courageous she was. I had never met anyone stronger.
“Let’s go to Jardin du Luxembourg.” I suggested. It was where I had proposed. She seemed to like the sound of that, and so she agreed.
It had that smell of rain in the air and cold breeze whistling through the trees. The birds were chirping and there were very less people there. We danced like eighteen-year-olds near a water fountain in an ankle length pool of water.
She was happy, I was happy, it was perfect. But we both knew it wasn’t going to last.
“Cas, when it happens, I want to be with you two.”
“Can we not talk about it?” she nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“I want to be with Ally too.” She requested. Honestly, I didn’t want to share my last day with her, with anyone. But she wanted to, and so, I was left with no choice. But before we could get home, she started having breathing problems. Despite her refusing, I drove her to the hospital.
The doctors said it was time. She barely had minutes. And I could not go home and get you. There was no time for it. And you know what I hated the most? That she put up a brave smile, just like always, like nothing was wrong. Like she wasn’t dying. But she was, and nothing could change that.
She wasn’t even mad at me for not driving her home.
“I love you…” She spoke softly and held on to my hand, and I watched as the light left her eyes, hating myself for keeping her away from you.
And to this day, I am mad at myself for doing that. And you know, you’re her daughter, Ally. And you’re so much like her, more than you can imagine. And you’re strong, strong enough to have lived without your mother. And I love you, Ally. I wish I had managed to say that to her before she…
But I won’t make the same mistake again. Ally, you are my daughter, and I love you with every fibre of my being. And those bullies at school, they need you to tell them to back off. You’re so strong for a seven-year-old girl, you need to show it to them. Show them you’re a fighter.’
We both were crying. For a seven-year-old, she understood things very deeply. ‘I love you too, daddy.’
‘I know…’
‘And I will show those bullies that I am my mother’s daughter.’
‘That’s my girl!’
‘Daddy, will I ever see mom again?’ she asked innocently, tilting her head,
‘Someday, we both will.” We spent the evening going through Catalina’s photos. We laughed at some, cried at some. I even showed Ally some of her mother’s paintings, and she was just too happy to know that she was like Cataline.
Today, I closed my eyes, hoping I would see Catalina again.
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