It inevitably came into being.
The day came, the mother arrived.
It all happened…. It came forth as any day does; it arrived, it appeared….
It all happened…
Everything….
Everything Jasmine had waited for, it all transpired…. —
Except what Jasmine had hoped for most, what she’d been hoping and thinking about did not happen.
The hopeful, anticipated moment of chance, emotional connection and encountering her mother did not come together as Jasmine so badly wanted it to.
It was a woman who visited, she was indeed a mother. She was the mother of one young girl who was staying in close proximity to Jasmine. That young girl was Sonia, Sonia had a bedroom that was positioned three doors past Jasmine’s bedroom.
Sonia stayed just down the hallway. Occasionally Jasmine would slow her steps through the hallway a bit if she heard the voice of young Sonia. She’d slow, listen in and then proceed forward.
Jasmine could not think about her neighbor or the community they were apart of. She was overcome by many waves of overbearing feelings. The emotions were ripping and roaring right through her.
What mattered to Jasmine was that she would have a chance to see -her mother. She waited for the day to come but lo and behold, this was not -the mother- Jasmine had been praying to meet.
No, this was not the mother she’d been hoping to see, hoping to hug, praying just to squeeze the leg of and cry out loud with. This was a disappointing day, a let down that Jasmine would have to process.
No, this was not her mother, it was not her day, not her moment.
It was not -her mom at all.
Jasmine had more than waited – she’d waited, eyed this moment on her yellowing calendar every day, each morning she reminded herself of the countdown…
…. She’d waited impatiently but earnestly all week.
This anticipated moment arrived and Jasmine’s jaw fell under her, it perfectly collapsed. Her jaw fell under the strength of gravity as she just stood. She stood in shock, in despaired, utter shock.
She stood frozen, completely motionless in the hallway corridor. Her mouth fell agape, her legs tightened, she put her right arm out to catch her balance on what felt like a wavy, rotating, dancing floor.
Jasmine was now swaying, this was a back & forth motion she couldn’t quite control. As Sister Judith had taught her, she began exhaling and releasing the angst that instantly blitzed her corporal system; breath by breath she began to come back to her body. She eased her way back, back to herself.
The day was flush with a strange feeling that overtook the entire physical structure of young Jasmine.
Suddenly the facility around Jasmine was different, it looked unfamiliar. The hues changed, color was fading and nothing was recognizable.
Jasmine came to the awareness that she had to do something. This was urgent, she knew she needed to -do -something. She felt the blood rushing through her confused limbs, closing her eyes to become aware of these sensations.
She desired a moment to release an unbridled scream but she held back. Today was not the day to get sequestered by staff members or called into any nurses quarters. “No,” she told herself, ‘I won’t lose it, not on this day’.
Feeling somewhat dizzy, she began to pat the wall around her, it was solid.
This wall she began to gently pat was what her palms begged for and she thanked the visceral feel of the chipped paint age had adorned this wall with. The flush of shock was now slowly fading. The rush, a blast of excitement was now forming, feelings began to change for Jasmine.
Jasmine knew disappointment so well and she was all too understanding that neither her mother, nor father had ever visited before. No cousins, nor grandparents had been anywhere near this facility, at least not that she was aware of.
She felt the wall, delicately touched this enamel white wall as though it was now a pillar of something substantial. This was significant, it had a symbolic meaning as the existential quest that Jasmine was on began to emerge.
She searched for something meaningful in her greying life. This mountainous wall that stood firm was a necessary reminder of -stability. This wall told Jasmine that stability did exist in the fluid, ever-shifting world of Jasmine.
This was something stable, this………………
She…. Deeply, desperately and dearly needed something solid ……. —-stable. Stability was a far off notion still, it was lacking in this young life -most of the time; stability was becoming her new prayer word.
Jasmine stood tall, suddenly her head sprang up. Survival mode was familiar, this was a default state of coping for Jasmine. In this motion she abruptly spun toward sunlight to gauge where she was & then to put micro-steps in motion. She summonsed herself and stepped forth, this was what she felt called to do.
Now, an appropriate actionable step forward was to progress ever slightly in the direction of her bedroom.
The game plan she would follow through on would be to find where her room was. As she moved, something – began to dawn on her. She’d realized something in this moment….
She supposed that it was all fate, she accepted a fate that she was growing far too familiar with.
“……aaaaahhhhh…..” she let out.
“Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhh…. Oooooohhhh my….” The agony that came across with this groan was paining her from the core of her intestines. ….. …. ….. “ooooohhhhh….”
Jasmine felt a gut turning pain that caused her to keel over.
Before anyone noticed, Jasmine made her way back to the bedroom, hope for the moment she had joyously anticipated was now awash; that joy was eviscerated from her emotional body. Holding on was the present focus.
All the excitement she felt was in tiny, frayed, fragmented shards that pummeled her with a reminder. This reminder was spinning about in her intestinal lining like a modern, hyper-charged washing machine, fully powered to torment her with all the unavoidable engine turning tornadoes moving through her gut.
Jasmine gently edged her right hand over her stomach and maintained her balance with her left hand fully extended as a winged arm that could catch the wall at any time.
Now Jasmine began to grow volatile in a frustrated, disappointed emotional frenzy. She was overcome by an arching fear, anger, doubt, even some rage-laced hatred began to flow about.
This doubt was igniting the query of whether her mother ever loved or even wanted her young daughter. She remembered asking her mom for ‘time’ as a tiny child. “Mama, this Saturday we should spend time, ‘quality time, Mama’… just the two of us.”
“Mama, Mama…. ….” Waiting to see if her mother noticed her, was listening and cared.
“Mama……. Do you want to?” She repeated. “… Mama…?”
“Quality time”, that sounded like a heady phrase to her mother. “Oh honey..” shrugged her mother who looked down, gestured with a shaking and then said aloud, “….where do you hear this stuff, baby girl?”
“Oh dear…” now wiping the comment as if didn’t quite grip her the way Jasmine intended.
That moment was painted across the walls of Jasmine’s memory. That quizzical expression her mom responded with vividly flashed and still courses through the streams of her being. Those momentous reflections flashed through and decorated the memory banks along with other thoughts she just couldn’t erase or walk away from. Her mother was surprised to hear the term, “quality time” from her little five year old girl but Jasmine thought nothing of her advanced linguistic expression. Jasmine quite liked the phrase.
Jasmine was mature, intelligent, verbally articulate as she had clearly grasped terms like these to gain her mother’s attention. Nothing could sustain or hold the attention of her mother -except for…
……. a new man.
Men came into the picture and immediately the surrounding world vanished, all that had ever lived, all that had ever existed was non-consequential as each new -man – became a focal point of priority.
Jasmine knew this about her mother but she still attempted to capture those meaningful moments with her -only mother. Her father was gone, it was beginning to seem as though he would never emerge in the life of Jasmine again. It felt as though he would not be anywhere near her mother’s or her life unless she could contact him somehow.. ??
But how? …
…she often pondered this question to herself.
… She held hope at times but now felt as if that hope was a faint, drifting whisper that had faded to an indiscernible tone. The whisper seemed to be fleeting, it was now slipping through her fingers as the water she ran -quickly transitioned from the sink down the drain as it disappeared.
Her roommate Yola walked in as Jasmine was returning to bed.
Yola liked and cared for the girls around her, she looked up to the top bunkbed of her roommate and inquired:
“Are you ok, Jazzy-Jas?” Yola’s pitch raised as she questioned in a genuinely concerned voice. This was a tone that Jas appreciated and absolutely needed. She definitely needed this. If there was a single point In Jasmine’s life when Jasmine wanted to have a close friendship, this was that moment.
This was the point where Jasmine also needed to release her walls of guarded, fenced in layers of defense.
“Aaahhhh… …. Ohhhhh…. …….
I ………. I guess so…”, Jas exhaled.
With head weighing heavy on her shoulders, she released her oversized, exasperated sigh…. She sighed often in this hyperbolic, overly emotive way, it communicated how Jasmine felt in any given moment. At this moment she sighed and glanced over in the direction of the doorway.
She had never quite thought about how lucky she was to have Yola as her roommate. She directed her look to where Yola stood, easily released her breath and then out came, “I’m ok, thanks Yola…. Yola, you know what? ….
…….you’re my girl.”
“Oh…. Jas…”, Yola responded. As she spoke, she smiled and consoled her roommate.
“Jazzzzz, Jazzy-Jazz…” chimed Jennika. “Girl, it’s ok….” …. “Jazzy Jazz”, Jennika tried again…. “Chin up -girl, it’s gonna be ohhhhhh k. It’ll be ok, I promise you that.” Jasmine felt the efforts that Jennika was putting forth and she appreciated it dearly.
“Come on girl, you got this…” Jennika followed up with.
Philip Dane 