Forgive, But Never Forget

It doesn’t normally rain this much, thought Mariah as she sat by her apartment window, sighing softly. Her grandmother had died the previous day, and her family wasn’t in town yet. She was alone; well, she had Brownie, her cocker spaniel, but she needed someone to talk to.1

She gazed out the window, reminiscing of times she spent with Andrea, her grandmother, and the fun things they did when she was younger. 2

Andrea took care of Mariah. Her parents were addicts, her father to drugs and her mother to alcohol. Andrea took her in and helped her get her life together. Because her parents only provided negative reinforcement, Mariah had always gotten into some form of trouble, and was coming home in handcuffs since the age of fourteen. The tears fell harshly, much like the rain. Andrea had helped her to overcome her bleak past and to be everything good that she presently was. 3

Mariah was a journalist with a passion for writing and a passion for music. She loved to play guitar, but seldom performed in front of a live audience at the local Phoenix, Arizona Fairs held in the summer. Phoenix was her home town and her current residence. 4

With her grandmother dead, and her family not quite in town, Mariah figured she’d better get started on some of the big things, like finding the will. She knew more about her grandmother than anyone else; well, anyone else besides her deceased grandfather. Her parents were never around, so they had no say in what went on. Mariah knew her grandmother like the back of her hand, so immediately, she headed over to the old age home in the pouring rain, and went through some boxes that were left in her now empty room. 5

The walls were white washed, all the colourful nature paintings and flower curtains had been taken down by the nurses, and there was unbearable silence filling the room, making it smaller than it seemed. Mariah took a breath and sat down on the bed, slowly digging in to one of two brown boxes on the bed. Rummaging through slowly, she pulled out a tiny green and pink flowered address book. Flipping through each yellow faded page, she read the names out loud.6

“Amelia Andrews, Harriet Barney, Tina Carthey, Catherine Donahugh …” until finally, she reached the back of the book. Flipping to the page titled Notes, Mariah came upon Andrea’s lawyer’s phone number. “Aaron Andrews!” Mariah exclaimed, semi-relieved. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and began dialing the number, and waited patiently, but suddenly was filled with panic. What was she going to say?7

“Hello?” the voice asked nervously into the phone.8

“Uh… hi, I’m Andrea Milford’s granddaughter, Mariah. Andrea died yesterday, and I know she did work with you, with writing her will. I was wondering if you could meet me at the Ameri-bank so I can access her Will that’s in the safety deposit box?” Mariah was scared, yet Aaron sounded the same. 9

“Umm, sure,” he replied semi-confident. “can I meet you tomorrow? I’m waiting for the verdict in a case I’m currently in, I can meet you down there at the Ameri-bank on Westward street, that was hers, correct? I can meet you there tomorrow at 2:30pm. Sound good, Mariah? I’d come sooner, but sadly, I’m in Los Angeles right now. ”10

“Correct. And yes, thank you very much. I’ll see you at 2:30pm tomorrow at the Ameri-bank on Westward. I’ll contact them now so they get us in right away. Thank you, Aaron. I appreciate this.”11

At 2:30pm the next day, Mariah stood by the doors of the bank and waited patiently for Aaron to arrive. Uncertain of what he looked like, she figured he’d be wearing some sort of dressy suit, most likely a three piece suit with sharp black, recently polished Rockport male tweed leather shoes. She looked around cautiously, and gripped her necklace tightly; the one her grandmother gave her - it had her name spelt with diamonds. Men and women walked quickly in and out, and Mariah thought hastily that perhaps he was inside waiting for her. She went inside and looked around for a dressy looking man, but to no avail, found none. She turned and headed for the door. Just as she was about to look up, she bumped into someone. “Mariah.” the man said gently, putting his hands up a little in a mercy type way, trying not to startle her anymore than she already was. Mariah blinked a few times before taking a breath. 12

“Aaron Andrews?” she asked softly, as they moved out of the way for incoming pedestrians. “How did you know it was -”13

“Your necklace. It says Mariah. Umm, did you speak to the receptionist about the box?”14

“Yes I did. We have to go there together and they’ll open it for us so I can get the Will. 15

“Very well,” he replied. “Let’s go.”16

Walking to the front desk and talking to the receptionist together lightened the atmosphere, and Mariah felt at ease. Thoughts ran through her head; what was in the Will? Is this Aaron man an angel? How did my grandmother get such a young, handsome lawyer? Will everything turn out okay? She shook her head to snap out of it, and both Aaron and the receptionist looked at her.17

“Sorry, just… thoughts about my grandmother. I’m okay. Can we see the Will please?” Mariah tried to pull it together, but the memories of her grandmother came crashing back to her, like waves against rocks in a helpless sea of emotions. Her grandmother taught her forgiveness, love, she taught her patience, everything needed to survive in the harsh reality of today. 18

Aaron reached an arm out to her while the receptionist grabbed her a glass of water and the Will.19

Reflecting, her grandmother had been there for her through everything. She attended her track meets, soccer games, dance recitals and even went to the hospital with her when she broke her long, elegant leg in a martial arts tournament. Now she was alone. Her grandmother styled her dazzling long, straight black hair for graduation, prom, dances, and pressed her dress suit for her very first job interview, bought her frameless glasses because she wanted to keep up with the styles - her grandmother gave her everything, and what did she give to her?20

Aaron, the receptionist and Mariah went through the contents of the Will in vivid detail to make sure everything was clear and concise. 21

With the Will completely sorted out, valuables sorted to family members who never gave a damn, yet were written in her Will out of the kindness in her heart, Mariah had to head back home to listen to the empty apologies on her answering machine from her almost forgotten parents and the neglect they gave to her years before. She went home to wait for her helpless family to arrive; the addicts, the druggies, the alcoholics, the quiet ones, the loud ones, the ones who never spoke to her in years. Her family whom she never wanted to forgive, but her grandmother, the one who helped make her the better person, taught her forgiveness. At home in her silent, white washed empty apartment with two brown boxes filled with memories, and a buffet style dinner sending mass aromas of lusciousness throughout the apartment, she would be the host, the rock, just like her grandmother taught her, the only one with the strength to love and forgive as they all fall to pieces on her kitchen floor. 22