For the Love of Dirt: THE PARCEL

“There hasn’t been a Christmas like this once since the first Christmas….the fear, the suffering, the awe, the strange new light that nobody understands yet….” -E.B. White

It was the week before Christmas. Nora shouldered her grocery bags and eyed the stairs to her apartment. Twelve. Be careful of number 6, she thought to herself. It was loose. She trundled up . She was getting too old for this. She was glad of the two weeks off from the school. It started in two days.

She had no peace in the office. Kids coming and going . Stealing her pencils and erasers. Taking the blank paper she had stacked neatly in its tray. Always being interrupted. Everyone wanting late slips.

Retirement was looking pretty good. Six months to go. She was saving for a trip. To anywhere.

Nora unpacked her groceries. . She could hear the people below . Always singing. This time it was a smattering of carols. Piano pounding. Accordion loud as the devil.And Edna Grubbs. Ugh.

She fancied herself a singer. Bellowing away in cahoots with her husband, Stan. The two of them sounded like camels. Nora stuffed earplugs in her ears.

Mother. Nora looked at her phone. Her mother had been calling her. Left about six messages. Nora sighed. She was tired.

Her elderly mother lived in her own little house, a hop skip and a jump from Nora. Six months to retirement. Maybe then her mother would move.

Her mother answered on the second ring. Bright as a penny. Happy as a lark. Nora absently turned on the tv, but kept the sound low. She flicked channels while she talked on the phone.

Every year her mother had her little house decorated . Lights hung everywhere outside. Inside flaunted a fresh green tree. Nora had dropped by with groceries for her mother. She made tea for them.

Her mother, elderly, a little frail, but happy. She observed Nora was too grumpy for her own good. Nora asked hermother who was going to clean up the decorations after the New Year. Her mother laughed. Six months to retirement, Nora thought. Six months and then we’ll sell this place……then I can go anywhere I want.

Back home, Nora cleaned cupboards. Edna Grubbs had started singing again. Scrub, Scrub, Scrub. Stan chimed in with what was supposed to be harmony. Scrub, Scrub, Scrub.

A week passed. It was Boxing Day. Nora got a call. Her mother had died. Unexpected. What a shame, people said.And at Christmastime. It took a few days to arrange things. Edna Grubbs, and Stan, sang at the memorial service the day before New Year's Eve. They sang “Silent Night” and “Oh Promise Me”.

Nora just sat in the front row and was quiet. She looked straight ahead. She didn’t even hear much of what anyone said to her. She went home.

She walked the rainy street a couple of blocks and came to her stairs. Twelve of them. The sixth one was loose. Her mother had told her to fix it. Nora let herself in.

On the table was a large parcel. It had arrived the day after her mother died. The return address had her mother’s name. It was weird. She had actually mailed it, or someone had mailed it for her. Nora hadn’t opened it yet. She wasn’t sure what she would find. Finally she sliced open the tape.

Inside was a note from her mother: “Sending these to you, so you will have Christmas. I may not be able to do this next year. I expect you will have moved on. Just remember the grass is not greener on the other side. Sometimes, you just have to find it, or let it find you!…..”

Inside the parcel, Nora found two beautiful cashmere sweaters; her mother had ordered them for her as presents. There was a gold locket that had belonged to her grandmother. Fruitcake, Shortbread, Wine gums and floral gums, Scotch mints, chocolate fudge, tablecloths edged in lace. Christmas decorations. A box of jewelry, and an old doll, with real hair and moving eyes. Her mother's old doll she had as a child.

There was a knock on the door. It was Edna Grubbs, and Stan. They told her one of her steps was loose. Stan could fix it for her in a little bit. And would she like to have supper with them?