Elly’s father had never been in the picture. Her mother described the night she was conceived as, “the best worst night of my life.” He had found out she was pregnant, confessed he was still married back in Tennessee, and left her with money to “take care of it.” Sarah had taken the money, put a down payment on a small cottage home and bullied her way into a well-paying accounting position at the local law office. Over the next 20 years, she made a life, a beautiful life filled with flowers, faith and love for her and her funny, chubby daughter.
When she left for college, Elly would count the hours until she could return to her mother’s house on Wright Street. She would pull up in her tiny Toyota Tercel, open the windows and let the sweet smell of hundreds of gardenias wash over her. Her mom would be waiting, hand on hip and a cheesy casserole in the oven. They would talk openly, without boundaries, until the early morning hours. Elly found herself waking many times, snuggled against her mom’s shoulder, smelling of earth and White Shoulders perfume, on the couch, fully dressed. Her mother was like her own skin. She was the rock which Elly’s life crashed against, water settling around it. She could never be moved. Like her garden, she was always there, growing with the seasons, returning in bloom every time Elly needed her.
When Elly had married Aaron, her mom had donned a beautiful strapless pale yellow dress and walked her down the aisle, clutching her daughter’s arm tightly. Sarah had done the flowers for the entire wedding. Elly clutched peach garden roses, white magnolia blooms, pale pink parrot tulips, and chocolate artichokes with seeded eucalyptus. To this day, it was the most beautiful bouquet Elly had ever seen. At the end of the aisle, pale wisteria hung down from a hand-crafted pine arch decked with lemons and olive leaves. Elly hadn’t noticed it, since underneath Aaron had stood smiling at her as if she were the light in his life. He had reached out his hand – his beautiful, ink-stained hand – and took hers. Her mother gave her a concerned smile and walked alone to her seat.
Looking back, Elly knew that the smile was more than motherly love. It was a warning. One of countless warnings that Elly had ignored in her fiery fall into Aaron-induced bliss. Three months after their wedding, her mother had told her that she had been diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer. The next nine months were spent caring for her mother on one hand, and juggling a new marriage with Aaron on the other. Worn out and emotionally exhausted, Elly’s days and nights blended together into paintings, pills and work. While at work, she was calling her mother every hour to make sure she was feeling okay, and when she was with her mother, she was on the phone with Aaron, helping him organize his gallery showings. At 3 am, dressed in her flimsy nightgown – Aaron preferred nightgowns to pajama pants – she would be on the computer, a pint of Cherry Garcia in one hand and a notepad in the other, looking up holistic remedies, radical cures, symptoms, medicines, and statistics. She had been a ghost, drifting between bright sunlight that was Aaron, and the dark recesses of her mind where she was losing her mother. That year was the best and worst of Elly’s life, but no amount of marital joy had prepared her for the heart-wrenching loss of her mother.
Sarah Jordan’s last day was on a Sunday. Unable to go to church, Elly read her mother her favorite bible verses while she cooked her mother’s favorite breakfast – granola pancakes with a cranberry-maple topping. Her mother was withered and small at that point, but her appetite had come back with ferocity in the last few weeks.
She looked at Elly and smiled. “I’m so glad that I’m here with you, and not at the hospital.”
Elly flipped a pancake.
“Well, that’s good, because a hospital would never feed you this. Jell-O and celery are probably better for you.”
Sarah smiled – weakly, but still a million watts at least.
“Better for me, at this point? Please. If I’m going out, I’m going out how I came in. Fat and happy.”
“Please don’t say that, Mom.”
As Elly slid the pancakes onto her mother’s plate, Sarah weakly reached for her arm.
“I feel like it’s today, honey.”
Elly felt a strangled sob escape through her throat.
“How can you know that? You don’t know. Your new medicine…”
“Elly. I’m ready. I’m so tired. I want to go home.”
Elly slammed her orange juice onto the table. “You are home. This is your home. Where I am.”
Sarah laid her hand on Elly’s wrist. “Yes. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. But I’m ready for the next adventure. I’m ready to meet my Savior. You are going to be okay. Elly Jordan, my daughter, my beautiful daughter. Being your mother is the greatest gift God ever gave me – the most beautiful flower in my garden…and the most stubborn.” She patted Elly’s cheek. “I’m not worried about you. Not even for a day. You’re stronger than you know. And you have Aaron. You love him. He makes you happy.” She chuckled. “And he is so very pretty.”
Elly laughed, despite the tears rolling down her face. “Eat your pancakes you old fart.”
Sarah Jordan looked deep into her daughter’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you. I have a feeling you are going to do something great in this life.”