Olivia_Harvey
01-06-2015, 08:50 PM
Ruth stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at the lines that were small and fragile decorating her skin. The steam billowing around her and inch by inch covering her reflection. Touching her face, she pulled back the skin by her eyes, lips and jaw she could see herself at eighteen. As she let skin slide out from beneath the tips of her fingers she watched her self age decade after decade in a second to reveal a grief stricken woman that she did not recognize. Her eyes narrowed as they grazed down her body, jiggly arms, taut skin over her rib cage, a dimpled bottom, trying to avert her eyes, a stretch marked abdomen that was a permanent reminder of the daughter she would never see grow up.
Today was the trial, for the woman whose text message was more important than the existence of her family. Resting her head against the wall in her shower, the scalding water pulsing against her flesh. Ruth wanted to cry. She wanted to get out all the pain she was feeling. Yearning for it to surface now and not at the hearing. She tried to think of their last day together but only remembered Beth as toddler clinging to her body all day. She wanted to recollect the memories of Joe, when he would put his hand under her shirt, to rub the small of her back while she washed dishes.
Intermittent the images of her husband and daughter were the words she wanted to say to Abigail Holbrook, her only opportunity to tell the people of the jury, the judge and all the people involved in the trial what it means to be a mother even after her child's death. That is if she was still considered a mother. But it was a mother’s job to protect her child, defend her child and be an advocate when her child couldn’t do it for themselves. Her mouth formed her daughters name and knew she had to do right by Beth.
Almost on autopilot, she got dressed. A burgundy career dress that she picked out to chaperone the 8th grade formal. The tags still on it. She skipped her make up and pulled her gray flecked hair in to a low bun. Her nails were not painted, she wore no panty hose and the normal scuffed black flats were traded in for nude pumps. She looked like a woman on a mission. A woman ready to speak her mind and not be distracted by tears.
Lights flashed at her as she made her way in to the courtroom. Her lawyer asked if she was ready to see the woman who put her child in the ground along with her husband. She nodded grimly. Until this point she had only seen pictures of Abigail Holbrook that had come from her Twitter and Facebook. Those images had shown a teenager who was curvy and happy. A cherub face at parties with friends, her dancing at a sleepover, in the air with pom-poms, wearing the tight white and green cheerleader uniform.
The door opened and in stepped a very different image from the girl in the pictures. She was still the same teenager but she looked like she had aged twenty years. She was petite girl before but now she looked gaunt, her eyes bloodshot and haunted. The dress she wore was for a woman like Ruth, navy blue, polyester with white buttons in the front and a peterpan collar. Her nails were done in a basic french tip and Ruth remembered the rainbow of colored nails she had seen in the photos. The trial commenced and Ruth tuned out everything until she was called to the stand.
“Is there anything you would like to say to court or Miss. Holbrook?” Ruth’s lawyer asked.
“Yes.” It was short and direct.
“Please make your statement.”
“The last day my family was together was trying day. Joe was upset that the air conditioning in the camper wasn’t working for our trip next weekend, Beth was dreading a family vacation in a place without Wifi and I was was frustrated about the mice who made a nest in my hiking boots. Nothing was going to plan, everyone was upset when we went to bed. Over the course of the next morning however everything started to fall into place. The part for the A/C was found in a store, Beth’s friend was able to come with us and distract her from the lack of wi-fi and the boots would just have to be replaced. I called Joe to make sure he was able to get Beth from Debate Club and Beth texted me that she needed snacks for the trip. The day was a normal day and then all of a sudden it wasn’t. The call that there was an accident, then finding out Joe didn’t survive and leaving me to make the decision to take Beth off life support.”
“I will never be able to get the image of her attached to all those tubes out of my head, the hours I spent by her side, brushing her soft black hair, feeling the scabbed skin under the tape and needles. Praying endlessly to God to change our places, to save her and take me. But that was not his plan. I had to make the decision by myself to let her go. As a mother that is a decision that should never be made about your child. I left that hospital alone, went to my house alone and have been alone ever since. Ever since Abigail decided that her text was more important than looking at the road.”
Because of her carelessness, I am alone. I had to bury my baby and my husband. I will never get to see them again. There will be no more good days or bad days. I don’t get to ask how school was or pass by the junior stores in mall and wonder if Beth would wear this. And then be scorned for thinking why she would ever like the sweater. Or be reassured by Joe that I am good mom. There are never going to be any more arguments about work or leaky faucets. I will never see her in a wedding dress or see my husband cry when he walks our daughter down the aisle. There are no grandchildren in my future and no renewal of vows on a beach. There is only me waiting to rejoin my family.” Ruth paused for a moment, to watch Mrs. Holbrook. They made eye contact while tears flowed from her eyes.
“However, knowing that you are going to prison is not enough for me. At least in there you can’t text and drive but I don’t think you will ever do that again anyway. No, for me I can’t leave this court knowing that you will just be sitting in jail. I can only leave this court knowing that an eye for an eye has been repaid.” Ruth stared at Abigail, the pleading look in her eyes was almost blinding. But Ruth needed to be the person she was trying to raise Beth to be.
“Abigail, I forgive you for what happened. I can’t go back and change what happened no matter how much I wish I could. What I can do though is forgive you. I can beg you to live the lives of the two people you took. I cannot accept you sitting, wallowing, wasting your life for a mistake that was made. I can’t accept that you miss out on your own life because of an error in judgement. One day when you’re old and have passed on from this world, the life you lived will be judged and I hope to God you make it one that has been for three people.” Ruth stood up, walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook, and took their hands in hers.
“No parent should ever bury their child. Please make sure my loss was not in vain.” Ruth let their hands go as she nodded. She then turned to Abigail and hugged her. Their tears ran together as she sobbed her apologies into Ruth's burgundy, polyester career dress.
Her evening proceeded. She left the court without knowing the ruling. She wanted to go home and have a bottle of wine. She turned the TV on and watched a medical drama. Then she got up and went to the bathroom. She felt like she needed another shower. She remembered a conversation with her daughter when she was 9.
“Another day another line” She said, pulling on her face.
“I think maybe next year I will get botox and join a gym.” She turned to smile at Beth over her shoulder.
“Just don’t dye your hair.” Beth said faintly.
“Sweetheart I can’t bare to keep these gray hairs.”
“But you have to mommy. You said I gave them to you and a few were from daddy.” The slight pleading tone bounced around in her head.
“Yeah but it’s not like I could ever forget you. I am always thinking of you.” Her hand flitted over her abdomen.
“And besides you have left more marks on me than just gray hairs.”
“I love you mommy and if you cover up the gray you ignore me and the love I have for you.”
“I just don’t think I can keep these gray hairs baby, I’m sorry.” She said to the picture of her daughter, before slipping into the hot shower.
Today was the trial, for the woman whose text message was more important than the existence of her family. Resting her head against the wall in her shower, the scalding water pulsing against her flesh. Ruth wanted to cry. She wanted to get out all the pain she was feeling. Yearning for it to surface now and not at the hearing. She tried to think of their last day together but only remembered Beth as toddler clinging to her body all day. She wanted to recollect the memories of Joe, when he would put his hand under her shirt, to rub the small of her back while she washed dishes.
Intermittent the images of her husband and daughter were the words she wanted to say to Abigail Holbrook, her only opportunity to tell the people of the jury, the judge and all the people involved in the trial what it means to be a mother even after her child's death. That is if she was still considered a mother. But it was a mother’s job to protect her child, defend her child and be an advocate when her child couldn’t do it for themselves. Her mouth formed her daughters name and knew she had to do right by Beth.
Almost on autopilot, she got dressed. A burgundy career dress that she picked out to chaperone the 8th grade formal. The tags still on it. She skipped her make up and pulled her gray flecked hair in to a low bun. Her nails were not painted, she wore no panty hose and the normal scuffed black flats were traded in for nude pumps. She looked like a woman on a mission. A woman ready to speak her mind and not be distracted by tears.
Lights flashed at her as she made her way in to the courtroom. Her lawyer asked if she was ready to see the woman who put her child in the ground along with her husband. She nodded grimly. Until this point she had only seen pictures of Abigail Holbrook that had come from her Twitter and Facebook. Those images had shown a teenager who was curvy and happy. A cherub face at parties with friends, her dancing at a sleepover, in the air with pom-poms, wearing the tight white and green cheerleader uniform.
The door opened and in stepped a very different image from the girl in the pictures. She was still the same teenager but she looked like she had aged twenty years. She was petite girl before but now she looked gaunt, her eyes bloodshot and haunted. The dress she wore was for a woman like Ruth, navy blue, polyester with white buttons in the front and a peterpan collar. Her nails were done in a basic french tip and Ruth remembered the rainbow of colored nails she had seen in the photos. The trial commenced and Ruth tuned out everything until she was called to the stand.
“Is there anything you would like to say to court or Miss. Holbrook?” Ruth’s lawyer asked.
“Yes.” It was short and direct.
“Please make your statement.”
“The last day my family was together was trying day. Joe was upset that the air conditioning in the camper wasn’t working for our trip next weekend, Beth was dreading a family vacation in a place without Wifi and I was was frustrated about the mice who made a nest in my hiking boots. Nothing was going to plan, everyone was upset when we went to bed. Over the course of the next morning however everything started to fall into place. The part for the A/C was found in a store, Beth’s friend was able to come with us and distract her from the lack of wi-fi and the boots would just have to be replaced. I called Joe to make sure he was able to get Beth from Debate Club and Beth texted me that she needed snacks for the trip. The day was a normal day and then all of a sudden it wasn’t. The call that there was an accident, then finding out Joe didn’t survive and leaving me to make the decision to take Beth off life support.”
“I will never be able to get the image of her attached to all those tubes out of my head, the hours I spent by her side, brushing her soft black hair, feeling the scabbed skin under the tape and needles. Praying endlessly to God to change our places, to save her and take me. But that was not his plan. I had to make the decision by myself to let her go. As a mother that is a decision that should never be made about your child. I left that hospital alone, went to my house alone and have been alone ever since. Ever since Abigail decided that her text was more important than looking at the road.”
Because of her carelessness, I am alone. I had to bury my baby and my husband. I will never get to see them again. There will be no more good days or bad days. I don’t get to ask how school was or pass by the junior stores in mall and wonder if Beth would wear this. And then be scorned for thinking why she would ever like the sweater. Or be reassured by Joe that I am good mom. There are never going to be any more arguments about work or leaky faucets. I will never see her in a wedding dress or see my husband cry when he walks our daughter down the aisle. There are no grandchildren in my future and no renewal of vows on a beach. There is only me waiting to rejoin my family.” Ruth paused for a moment, to watch Mrs. Holbrook. They made eye contact while tears flowed from her eyes.
“However, knowing that you are going to prison is not enough for me. At least in there you can’t text and drive but I don’t think you will ever do that again anyway. No, for me I can’t leave this court knowing that you will just be sitting in jail. I can only leave this court knowing that an eye for an eye has been repaid.” Ruth stared at Abigail, the pleading look in her eyes was almost blinding. But Ruth needed to be the person she was trying to raise Beth to be.
“Abigail, I forgive you for what happened. I can’t go back and change what happened no matter how much I wish I could. What I can do though is forgive you. I can beg you to live the lives of the two people you took. I cannot accept you sitting, wallowing, wasting your life for a mistake that was made. I can’t accept that you miss out on your own life because of an error in judgement. One day when you’re old and have passed on from this world, the life you lived will be judged and I hope to God you make it one that has been for three people.” Ruth stood up, walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook, and took their hands in hers.
“No parent should ever bury their child. Please make sure my loss was not in vain.” Ruth let their hands go as she nodded. She then turned to Abigail and hugged her. Their tears ran together as she sobbed her apologies into Ruth's burgundy, polyester career dress.
Her evening proceeded. She left the court without knowing the ruling. She wanted to go home and have a bottle of wine. She turned the TV on and watched a medical drama. Then she got up and went to the bathroom. She felt like she needed another shower. She remembered a conversation with her daughter when she was 9.
“Another day another line” She said, pulling on her face.
“I think maybe next year I will get botox and join a gym.” She turned to smile at Beth over her shoulder.
“Just don’t dye your hair.” Beth said faintly.
“Sweetheart I can’t bare to keep these gray hairs.”
“But you have to mommy. You said I gave them to you and a few were from daddy.” The slight pleading tone bounced around in her head.
“Yeah but it’s not like I could ever forget you. I am always thinking of you.” Her hand flitted over her abdomen.
“And besides you have left more marks on me than just gray hairs.”
“I love you mommy and if you cover up the gray you ignore me and the love I have for you.”
“I just don’t think I can keep these gray hairs baby, I’m sorry.” She said to the picture of her daughter, before slipping into the hot shower.