Footprints on a Snowy Lake by Sandy Brannan
Audrey looked at the footsteps making their way across the snowy lake and wondered. Pulling her knit hat a little lower on her head, she stomped her feet to allow some warmth to come her way. If only she had a way of stopping the cold from seeping into her heart where her memories were. Something about the footsteps had stopped her in her tracks this morning, bringing her past back into clear focus.
When she had decided to head out on her walk earlier, there had been no one to tell her to bundle up. She hadn’t heard a little voice begging to tag along. She softly laughed, a sound with no humor in it, as she thought about the dog leash hanging on the nail just inside the front door. No, she didn’t even have Sally anymore. It was just her, so she had pulled on her boots, layered her clothes, added mittens and a knit hat, and made her way outside.
She had no real destination in mind, never did, but somehow her feet had brought her here to this spot where there were tiny footprints in the snow. She couldn’t tell where they ended, but she definitely knew they were fresh. She wasn’t worried. The kids around here knew the lake was frozen solid. Anyone who had ventured out onto the frozen water could easily find their way back to the shore.
No, it wasn’t worrying that stopped her, making her stare. Instead, it was the way she suddenly felt a tiny hand reach out to caress her long brown hair. It had been so many years since her young daughter had broken the habit, but she still felt it from time to time. What she wouldn’t give to feel those tiny fingers mindlessly make their way through the hair that hung down her back. When had Laney last played with her hair? When had she last held her sweet child?
Puling the hat off, Audrey reached her hand around to the back of her head, half-expecting to feel her baby girl’s tiny fingers. Tears came to her eyes as she tried to remember the last time she had held the miniature hand in her own. Her girl had grown up before she had gone away. Audrey had never expected her to stay away so long, but college led to a job in the city, and before either one of them knew it, years had started to slip by until they had piled on top of each other, causing more than time to come between the two of them. She didn’t blame her daughter for never coming home. The house was an empty shell now, void of everything it had once been.
One by one, everyone had left, leaving her behind to chase her memories all day, every day. She was finding it harder to hide from them.
Audrey heard something, a soft noise disturbing the silence that she had always loved about a snowy day. When she held her hand up to her eyes to block the glare, she saw them—a young mother wrapped in a bright purple scarf followed by a young child dressed in soft pink. The color was so subtle the child almost was indistinguishable from the snow that floated down around her.
She knew she should turn away, knew she needed to make her way back home before her joints started hurting like they always seemed to do now if she stayed out too long in the cold weather, but no matter how loud her thoughts were, they weren’t enough to force her back home. She knew what waited for her there, and even if one glimpse of a child who wasn’t hers would end up causing her pain, she simply could not tear her eyes away.
When they were a few feet away from each other, the little girl suddenly stopped and smiled the shy smile unique to the very young. Her mother, obviously startled, called out, “Mitzi, come back. Leave the nice lady alone.”
Audrey understood. The young mother would have a chat with her daughter about strangers, trying her best to keep the conversation balanced. She wouldn’t want to scare her child, but she also would make sure she understood the danger involved. Deciding to make it easy on them all, Audrey smiled and waved before walking away.
Today would be a day to pull out the photo albums to look at while she enjoyed a cup of tea. If Michael were still alive, he would know what to say to keep her from slipping too far into the past.
When Audrey got home, she shook the snow off her boots before stepping onto the rug just inside her front door. Looking around, she let her eyes land on the answering machine like she found herself doing so often lately. It had been a long time since the red light had been on, so long that she felt herself stumble when she saw the way it flashed at her. She knew who had called before she made her way across the small den to her husband’s old chair, the one with the telephone table beside it. She felt the first tear fall as she listened to the sound of her daughter’s voice making its way to her heart, bringing warmth back into the cold room. Pushing the button to hear the message, again and again, Audrey reached behind and played with her long curls. She could almost feel her little girl’s breath on her neck as she rocked her. She could almost feel the heaviness of her little body as her hand stilled when sleep finally found its way to her. She could almost feel the tiny hand she missed so terribly tucked into her own.
Standing up to fix that cup of tea, Audrey’s face held a real smile for the first time in a long time. She no longer envied the young mother, no longer felt the pain that had been threatening to smother her. She looked around and found herself embracing the season she was in. No, the pain wasn’t completely gone. She wasn’t sure it ever would be, but she suddenly understood the past wasn’t where she needed to live. Time had moved on as it does, but she knew something the young mother in the snow didn’t. Her memories would always be with her, and once in a while, with the gift of a few words or a visit, her past would come alive to her again. And with it, the past could bring love to her instead of longing, happiness instead of sorrow. She was grateful that today was one of those days.
Sandy Brannan, author of Becoming Invisible, So Much Stays Hidden, Masquerade, and Frozen in Time teaches middle and high school English. She also is a contributing writer for The Real Deal of Parenting and Her View From Home. Sandy's idea of a perfect day is one spent creating memories with her grandchildren. This usually includes coloring and reading a lot of books. You can read more of her work on her blog at sandybrannan.com.
Sandy is also active on social media facebook.com/sandybrannanauthor and instagram.com/sandybrannanauthor. You can follow her on Amazon at amazon.com/author.sandybrannan.