Word Count: 3653

Kathryn van der Pol

1315 Beutel Drive

Houston, Texas 77055

(713) 468-8755

The Thank you Note

Mom was dying, but no one really believed it. She was too tough, too brave, too mean to let death drag her away.

That January afternoon three weeks ago, she was on her old bed while the technician from Spring Branch Medical Supply was trying to piece together her new bed, paid for courtesy of Medicare. He was having trouble. Two hours later, he pushed a button to make the bed rise. Instead, the bed went down. When he pushed the down button, it went up. He never did get it right, and Mom would never notice. She was past pushing buttons.

“Well, Mrs. Paulk, the bed is together. Are you ready to get in it?

“Yes, please. I’m reeeeally tired. I want to take a nap.” C-SPAN blared away on the 32” TV that was never allowed to be off. Mom was propped up with four pillows behind her back. At 74, her hair was still blonde; her hairdresser once said she thought Mom secretly dyed her hair on the side. The body however had completely lost its youth and was wearing out and weakening day by day.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. “Mom, I think Tina and Paul are here. I’ll go let them in.”

“Okay, but give me a minute before you bring them back here. I’m pooped.”

As Cherry left the room, the hum of Mom’s oxygen machine droned on and on, rising rhythmically every few seconds sounding like a snoring Green Giant inhaling and then exhaling.

“Hey, Lanelle, how are you doing today? Tina asked.

“Oh, I’ve been better. How are you?”

“Well, Paul and I just had some sushi at a nice Japanese restaurant and thought we’d drop by.”

“What did you have?” Mom never lost her interest in food.

“Well, Paul had shrimp tempura, and I had some salmon and tuna rolls.”

“Hi, Lanelle,” Paul chimed in. You’re Japanese garden is beautiful. Cherry just walked me through it.”

“Thanks, it is nice, isn’t it? My husband planted the azaleas and crepe myrtles years ago and made the rock garden himself. The tori gate and the little bridge we had built, and I found the Buddha in a little garden shop. Cherry’s husband built the arbor for my bonsai after Jim died.” She didn’t mention what a hard time she had given George in the process.

Mom had not seen her garden since last summer; that was almost seven months ago—even though the arbor was just outside her bedroom window. Her dimming vision had grown worse and light irritated what sight she did have. It was a blessing she didn’t know what poor condition her bonsai were in. She thought of them as ancient beings like old wise men with gnarly hands and long beards. If she knew the truth that they were gasping for water with drooping leaves, she’d have a stroke.

Paul said, “Well, Lanelle, I’m going back to China next week. I have a job with Dynatech; they want me to do some more programming,”

“I thought you just came back from China.”

“You’re right. I did; but this was a mini-vacation. The slave-wager goes back on Monday.”

“Well, did you bring Tina back any green jade from your first trip?”

“No, why?”

“Well, the Chinese believe green jade is lucky. It will bring you long life and prosperity. You should get Tina some on your next trip.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Paul.

“Lanelle, Paul always brings me back something. He brought me a silk jacket this time. It’s a beautiful mandarin red with yellow swans stitched into the fabric,” said Tina. She didn’t want Lanelle to think Paul didn’t treat her nicely, even though it was true that Paul didn’t like to shop and really didn’t know how to shop.

Cherry was glad to see Mom chatting with friends about ordinary things, glad to be able to fade into the background, but she interrupted at that point, knowing how tired her mom was, and the technician from Spring Branch Medical Supply was still standing there. “Well, folks shall we get this show on the road? If each of us grabs a corner, I think we can move Mom into her new bed.”

“With me in it?” asked a surprised Lanelle. “I don’t think so.”

“Yep. We’re not going to drop you,” Cherry said. “You’re very precious cargo.”

:”Oh, shut up,” Lanelle’s voice could slice venison at that moment.

“We do this all the time, ma’am. Don’t worry,” said the technician.

“So, what are ya’ll going to give me if I survive?”

“Mom, how about a cherry bon-bon?” Candy was normally verboten. Mom was diabetic.

“Okay, I guess. Go ahead.”

On the count of three, each person stationed at one corner heaved up the mattress with Lanelle, who must have weighed close to 300 pounds, from the old bed to the new bed. Though Cherry was overly worried, the transfer was as smooth as moving a tray from one table to the next.

“Oh, thank you,” said Lanelle. That’s better. Where’s my bon-bon?” looking at Cherry.

Today, as Cherry was stepping out of the shower, the phone rang at 6:15 a.m. She felt her hair stand on end. Oh no. It was Mom. Something was wrong. She grabbed a towel and leapt over the dog lying in the doorway. “Answer the phone,” she shouted to no one in particular.

The phone rang again. She grabbed it on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Cherry, this is Tina. Got a minute?”

“Sure,” Cherry exhaled with relief and some annoyance. Why would Tina be calling her at 6: 15 a.m.?

“Is there any way you can stop by the house on your way to school? I have something to show you and Paul has to leave on another trip today, but he wants to be here when you see this.”

“Of course.” Cherry was trying to figure out if she could get dressed, go to Tina’s, and still get to school on time.

“Good. See you in a little bit.”

Cherry got there at 7:00 and Tina’s dog Hamlet licked her as she walked in the door. Oh great, Cherry thought. Just what I need. More dog slobber.

“Hi Cherry, I brought something back from China I want to show you,” Paul said. He walked toward the kitchen and brought out a large box.

“What is it?” Cherry asked, forgetting the dog and wondering what this was all about.

“Go ahead and open it,” Paul said, piercing his lips and raising his eyebrows in suspense. Tina came into the room. “Hey Cherry.”

“Hi. This sure is crazy to call me up at 6:00 a.m. I thought you were Mom. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Cherry said, plowing through the newsprint and packing peanuts. “Hey, what is this?” She lifted up a small tree in an oval wooden container. “It’s a ceramic bonsai.”

“No, Cherry. It’s jade,” Paul said.

“Jade? Wow. What a wonderful gift for Tina. Don’t you love it?” Cherry beamed at Tina. Tina looked at Paul.

“I got it for your Mom.” Paul said in a soft voice.

“My mom? Really? Oh my God. This is amazing.” Tears welled up in Cherry’s eyes. The bonsai tree had a thick knobby brown ceramic trunk and branched out into three main limbs. Smaller limbs supported dozens of droplets of jade, the size of peas. Each jade leaf was cocooned in a delicate gold wire and suspended almost like fruit from a tree.

“How did you find this?” Cherry asked grinning, her big brown eyes opened wide.

“I wanted to get your mom something, knowing how she liked Japanese and Asian things and all. I saw some nice jewelry, but I didn’t see much point to that. Then I happened to go to a market, and I saw these bonsai jade trees, and I knew instantly that was it. I remembered seeing her beautiful Japanese garden and all her bonsai. It just came to me that was the thing. Remember, what she said about jade bringing long life?

Bill was getting a kick from watching Cherry’s reaction to the whole thing. That alone made it all worthwhile.

“You mean this isn’t for Tina? This is for Mom?” Cherry asked still not quite believing all that she had just heard. “Oh, she’s going to love this. She’s been so immobile with nothing much to do and hardly being able to see, but she’ll be able to arrange her branches and see her bonsai. Oh, I can’t believe this. What a perfect gift. Uh oh. Wait a minute. One of the limbs is broken.”

Paul shook his head. “Yeah, I know. We packed it as well as we could, but it broke at some point in transit on the flight home.”

“George can fix it. He’ll figure out how to put it together. Well, should I take it now? I need to be getting on to work.”

Later in the morning, Cherry called George at work. “Hey, guess what? Paul brought Mom the coolest gift from China.”

“What is it?” George asked.

“A jade bonsai tree, but it’s slightly broken. One of the limbs fell off in transit. Do you think you could fix it?”

George grunted. More junk for the fix-it man, not that Lanelle had ever cared. “Well, I’ll look at it when I get home.”

“I love you,” Cherry said.

“Bye.” George hung up.

After dinner, George took a long look at the bonsai tree on the dining room table, gently turning it around. “Well, that was nice of Paul.” Compliments from George were rare.

“He’s amazing,” Cherry said. “I thought it was for Tina; I can’t believe he remembered that conversation we had about jade”

“What conversation?”

“Well, Mom told him how the Chinese believe green jade brings people good luck. The greener the better. We could all use a little luck.”

“I think with my dremel tool and some glue we can fix this.” George stood up and looked at the broken bonsai tree as a challenge to be conquered.

Within an hour, George very delicately had drilled through the ceramic trunk and the broken limb two holes each about an inch long and 1/8” round. He inserted a thin metal rod into one hole, layered glue on the trunk and slid the missing branch onto the protruding end of the rod. Presto, the tree was made whole. One could tell George was pleased with his handiwork.

“This is fantastic. We can take it to her tomorrow.” Cherry could not recall the last time she was this excited. At last, something good was happening for her mother. “Let’s call Tina and Paul and we’ll all go over together.”

“I’m not going.” George said. “You go. Your mother doesn’t want to see me.” George walked away from the dining room table into the kitchen and poured himself a beer.

Tears filled Cherry’s brown eyes as they did quite often these days.” Oh George, she’s just old and sick.” Secretly, however, she wondered if George was right. What would Mom say if she knew George has repaired it? She decided to worry about that later.

Friday night, Tina, Paul, and Cherry drove over to Mom’s together. Charlene, Mom’s caregiver, an old black woman, let them in.

“How are ya’ll doing, tonight?” Charlene smiled. Everybody smiled back. One couldn’t help it. Charlene was so warm and friendly, one just had to be warm and friendly back. Cherry looked over at the kitchen counter and saw the dinner tray. “Mrs. Paulk ate her supper real good, Cherry. You know she loves my stew.” Charlene was walking barefoot, her slip-on sandals underneath the breakfast table. She was very overweight and waddled somewhat. Her most remarkable feature was a huge rear end that sort of danced whenever she moved.

“How’s her mood?” Cherry asked.

“It’s all right. She fussed at me about my shoes again. I just forget.” Mom hated for Charlene to be barefoot. She had this mental image that her hired help was trashing her house. Bare feet were a sure sign that the help was down on the job and taking things far too casually. Charlene squatted down and put on her shoes. “Come on back.”

“Mrs. Paulk,” Charlene rapped on the door. You got company.”

“Come on in.” Mom spoke as if she were the top executive of a corporation.

Cherry spoke up first. “Mom, Paul brought you something.”

Paul and Tina followed Cherry. They both greeted Lanelle and walked around her new bed. Tina gave her a hug. “How are you, Lanelle?”

“Well, I’m not dead yet. What did you bring me?” Lanelle asked.

“Look. It’s a bonsai tree,” Cherry held it up and gently placed it in her mother’s lap. “It’s made of jade.” Mom startled as if an unannounced guest had just walked into the room.

“Oh my,” was all Mom could manage to say. Her hands trembled as she tried to touch the little fruits of jade. “Oh my, it’s beautiful.”

Paul said, “I’m glad you liked it. I thought it was a way for you to enjoy your garden.”

“I love it. Cherry put it on this table next to my bed where I can see it.” Cherry moved a stack of magazines into a chair and placed the tree in her mom’s line of limited vision.

Tina and Paul watched Mom carefully. She looked pleased as she watched Cherry arrange the branches and jade leaves in perfect bonsai form. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Lanelle said. “I will really enjoy having this to look at.”

Paul thought about Lanelle. She could not leave the bed. Nor sit up without help. She could use her arms but not her legs. Cherry told him that Lanelle had had an aneurysm repaired last fall. The surgeon deemed the operation a success, but Lanelle never regained her strength. Diabetes, osteoporosis, and lung disease were weakening her daily. What was he going to be like at 75? Would there be anyone to bring him a jade tree from China?

On Saturday, Cherry went over to her Mom’s at 2:00 p.m. She stayed all day, arranged Mom’s meds for the week, paid the bills, talked to mom, and helped Charlene with dinner. Charlene talked about how hard it was to turn mom these days. Mrs. Paulk was retaining so much fluid from the prednisone. The physical demands were becoming greater and greater.

Cherry fixed a ritual treat for herself and mom-- a homemade chocolate ice-cream soda. Her dad had taught her mother who had taught her. After they were done eating, Lanelle said. “Cherry, I need to write a thank you note.”

“Sure, Mom. Do you want to do it tomorrow?”

“No. I want to do it right now. Get one of those special cards that folds out. They’re in the box on the bottom shelf of my bookcase.” The oxygen machine heaved and hummed as she spoke.

Cherry looked through the nicotine-coated shelves, reminding herself that at least her mother didn’t smoke anymore, and found a small cardboard box that used to be white. Inside, protected by plastic were 3-D cards that folded out. Cherry picked out one that looked like the storefront of a Christmas Store, with presents lining the shelves of the store window. The store window was the 3-D part, standing out from the rest. “Here it is. Do you want to write it, Mom?” Cherry asked.

“Hell, you know I can’t do that. I want you to write what I dictate,” Lanelle coughed. She was mildy fed up with her daughter’s dumb questions.

“Yes ma’am.” Cherry snapped to attention. “I’m ready.”

After going through ten dozen drafts, by 11:00 p.m. Mom finally figured out what she wanted to say. “Even the Christmas store doesn’t have anything as nice as the jade bonsai. I really love looking at it. Thanks again, Lanelle.”

There. It was done.

Cherry drove home that night with the card in her pocket, thinking that this was the first time in months she could remember her mother putting this much effort into something beyond breathing and eating. Maybe the jade would bring good luck.

When she got home, she remembered George was in Dallas. He had taken their three daughters to visit his brother. She was alone, but it would be all right. He would be back Sunday.

At 5:00 a.m., the phone rang. Cherry almost didn’t hear it. She had been in a really deep sleep, dreaming that her mother was playing, “Smoke Gets in My Eyes” on the organ. She reached over the nightstand and grabbed the cordless phone. “Hello? Who is this? What did you say? Houston police? What’s going on? Is it my mother?” Pause. “Oh God, I was supposed to be there.”

When Cherry pulled up to her mother’s driveway, emergency vehicles lined the curb. One fire engine, an ambulance, and three police cars. Men in uniform were standing in the front yard. The night was chilly, almost freezing; stars dotted the sky, clearly visible, an atypical night for Houston.

One of the police officers walked up to Cherry as she stepped out of her car, “I’m so sorry. Are you her daughter?”

“Yes, I am,” Cherry said coldly, surveying what seemed to her a ridiculous number of men, nine in the front yard. Why are all these men here, she thought. Mom would have a fit. The last thing she would want would be to be examined by strange men. “I’d like everyone to leave. Right now.” Cherry’s voice surprised her. It sounded more like her mother’s than her own.

“Yes, ma’am. Most of these men are just getting ready to go. I will be taking the report.”

“Thank-you,” Cherry said. She felt relieved. “When did it happen?”

“Best we can tell, about 4:30 a.m.” Officer Ash said.

At that moment, Charlene came bursting outside with shoes on. “Oh, Ms. Cherry, I’m so so sorry. I kept trying to call you on your cell phone, but there was no answer.”

“Oh Charlene. How did it happen? I can’t believe she died without me there,” tears were streaming down Cherry’s face, thinking guiltily of the cell phone which was still by the front door, left there from last night. She hadn’t heard it at all.

Charlene and Cherry walked into the house, arm in arm, one thin slight white woman enveloped by one huge black woman, with a bouncy rear end. The officer in charge waited outside. The extra officers began to walk toward their vehicles.

“Oh baby, your momma went real peaceful,” Charlene began. “About three o’clock, she woke up from a nap. You know how she never sleeps for long. We was talking off and on. I was sitting by her bed in the chair. At about four, she said, ‘Charlene, bring me some lotion. I want you to rub my arms.’ So, I done that, just massaging her arms gently. She said that felt good. Then she said, ‘Charlene, I want a washcloth for my face.’ So, I went in her bathroom and brought her a warm washcloth. As I was wiping her face, she said, ‘Oh, that feels so good. One last time, please.’ So I did it one more time. Then, your momma looked at the clock there next to the TV, and the way she looked, I knew. Her eyes just set, right then, like that. I was scared; I couldn’t remember any number but your cell. I kept calling your cell phone. Then I called 911 and the paramedics came out here about 4:40, and they called the police.”

“Oh Charlene, I was supposed to be here when she died. I had a dream just before the policeman called me that Mom was playing the organ for me. She was calling me in her own way.” Cherry put her head on the table and wept.

“Come on, baby. She’s in a better place. Let’s go see.”

Cherry walked through the living room with the brass lamps and the Japanese scroll on the wall. She walked down the hallway, glancing at Mom’s wedding picture with her own just below. Then she entered the bedroom. It was quiet. No oxygen machine. The table lamps were on. The chairs were all in the right places, but the TV was turned off. Mom was propped up in the bed, her head drooping slightly, like she had nodded off to sleep. Her arms rested easy by her side.

“MOM. MOM? MOM? Cherry screamed. “Oh Mom. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I was supposed to be here.” Cherry felt like she was choking; she couldn’t swallow; she couldn’t breathe. She gasped and coughed. She picked up her mother’s swollen hand; it was still warm. Instantly, Cherry calmed down and Charlene slipped out of the room, leaving Cherry standing by the bed, still holding her mother’s hand.

“Oh mom, I love you,” Cherry whispered. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Cherry saw the bonsai tree, sitting on the table, within Mom’s easy reach. There was a sliver of paper showing underneath. Cherry reached across the bed and picked it up. The writing was in Charlene’s hand. It said, “Tell George, thank you for fixing my bonsai. I love you. Mom.” At that moment, the last lines of the song in her dream floated through Cherry’s mind. “Yet today, my love has flown away. I am without my love/
Now laughing friends deride/ Tears I cannot hide/ Oo--oo-oh So I smile and say
"When a lovely flame dies/ Smoke gets in your eyes"/ ....Smoke gets in your eyes....”

Cherry signed, brushing aside a runaway tear. “I guess we were together after all.” She stared at the bonsai tree. “Mom, I’m going in the garden to give your old men a drink.”