Two Years, One Day

It had never occurred to him before, that even the way the birds sang would be different.

The sounds of birds, the sight of them perched amidst the fall leaves, was so familiar. But it was the melody that was different.

Even as he watched one, its head bobbing up and down in jerky, jaunty movements, he marveled at the subtle difference.

When he reached his mother's home he stood, hesitating for the smallest fraction of a second, before he sighed once and stepped through the doorway.

It was exactly as she had described.

As he walked through the narrow hallway, lit by the gentle light of a dwindling afternoon, he could imagine how it had been. The floral wallpaper, torn and water-logged, still cheerful where the petals stood their ground against the encroaching mold.

He could still sense the whisper of warmth, like the feeling he'd had many times leaving a warm house and stepping into the cold. Something was still lingering there, something nice.

He clutched the photo in his gloved right hand, encountering a narrow staircase adjacent to what was left of a kitchen that must have smelled, once upon a time, like strong coffee, fragrant teas and latkes.

Up the stairs he went; one foot at a time, focusing on each step carefully, giving it his full attention, as he had done every day for the last six months.

This intentional myopia made it easier. It gave his mind a direct and simple path.

At the top he stood in an open room. This was it. Even the ancient plush chair that she had sat on. He held up and studied the photo. It felt a lot like being in two worlds, like a split screen between the future and the past. The longer middle section - the richest and most detailed one - was cut out. What was left was pure contrast.

There she sat, all curls and teeth, in a dress so frilly and homemade that no modern girl would be caught dead in it.

Her hands clutched a little paper mache doll and the southern light coming in from the window lit up her hair with a gentle glow. That expression, like she thought everything was a little joke, something to be taken lightly, stayed with her up until the very end. Those curls may have gone and those teeth had shrunk into proportions more suitable in an adult's face, but that look - man, that look! That had mom written all over it.

He smiled remembering that and still holding the photo went over to the window to hear those birds sing again.