One Person

“So... I was asked to write about the one person, alive or dead, that I would want to meet today in English, Mama.” Raven spoke as she brushed off her skirt with one hand and adjusted herself on the grass with the other.

“At first, I wasn’t sure, I couldn’t think of a person I would want to see so badly; alive or dead. Those closest to me started writing right away, obviously knowing who they admire. My friend, Anna, she wrote about how she would want to meet Edgar Allen Poe; about how his works meant so much to her and how a single meeting with him would make her life all the better.” She paused and looked to the side where a few dandelions grew close by.

“At the thought of making it someone who was well known, I ran through a list of people who touched my life though their works. I thought, maybe, Shakespeare. I know how much you loved him in college, how you preformed on stage as Juliet your freshman year and how his books litter the shelves in our library.” Raven paused once more, her hand reaching for the small yellow flowers, which she began to gather.

“But then I thought, 'No, he wasn’t someone who touch my life'.” She smiled lightly as her hands kept busy. “So I thought harder. Thinking about my youth, I thought maybe Robin Williams. His death was such a shock, and I still can't believe that it's been almost four years since he died. He was in so many of the movies I watched as a child. He made me laugh, smile, and think about how much I didn’t want to ever grow up. He was a brilliant man, Mama.”

With several flowers gathered in her hand, Raven stroked the petals and then lifted her eyes to the stone that was before her. “But then, Mama, I thought about you. I thought about your warm smiles and your warm embrace. I thought about your voice calling to me and my small feet chasing after you as you ran away squealing. I thought about the last time I saw you in that bed. I thought about you telling me not to cry, you telling me everything would be alright and that you would always be with me.”

A tear fell from her eye as a sob escaped her lips. “That’s when I knew who I wanted to write about, about whom I wanted just one more day with Mama.” She choked a little bit but lifted her hand to her eyes and wiped the tears away. “I wrote about you, Mama. I wrote how I just wanted more day with you. How I wanted to run though the house with you as Dad laughed in the background, about how I wanted to spend the afternoon baking cookies and laughing with you. I wrote how I wanted to spend the night before the fire as you read to me and how I wanted to fall asleep in your lap and never wake up without you again. ”

Placing the flowers down in front of the gravestone, Raven ran her fingers over the lettering there that spelled out her mother’s name. “I miss you, Mama. I miss you every day; but I promise I’m okay. No matter how much I miss you, I smile. I smile because when I do, I get to see a bit of you.” Smiling lightly, Raven pulled back and turned her wet eyes to the darkening sky. It was getting late. She should get home before her father started to worry.

Reaching for her backpack, Raven pulled out the already graded paper out and placed it on her mother's grave. “I know I hate letting people read my writing, but if you want to you may.” Setting a stone on her paper so the wind wouldn't blow it away, Raven got to her feet. “Good night, Mama. May you sleep with the angels.”