Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Tamas

Yellow Zinnia

My Berta,

I call you this, even though I think that you may leave me. Like Greta is still our very own girl no matter what the doctors, the illness or God decided. I have no say in these things. My heart tells me how it must be.

You wonder that I laugh at the funny men on the television or can smile at the sunset at the back of our house. I see you look at me, and you do not understand, and I cannot explain. Still I cannot find the right words. I have been sitting here very late, and I have been reading your books. These are the books that I think give you comfort. Sometimes when I cannot find you in the house, I think I will find you folded within the pages, thin and delicate like the paper. You have always been dainty– I think that is the word– but now you are so thin and sad. I think if I touch you, I will tear you. Then I think you are broken already and perhaps I should hold you to try and put you back together. But my hands are large and clumsy and maybe I will only break you some more. I can lift you– I could always lift you into the big tree in your parents' garden. Do you remember that? I would lift you now, but I do not think this is what you want.

I used to write to you, didn't I? I found the writers you loved, and I borrowed their words, having none of my own. I have been with your books tonight and this is what I can find to try to tell you why I laugh at silly jokes and smile when I see the bright yellow zinnia in the garden.

They are words from the Romanian poet that you like so much.

Laughter has no memory.

Time flows on,

And we slip, like a pebble

Between the inhale and the exhale.

I laugh, Berta, because then I can stop time. It stops for as long as it takes for me to breathe in the air and force the laughter out. Then time restarts and all I can do is think of our beautiful girl and feel the never-ending pain of losing her.

I do not want you to leave me, Berta. I am nothing without you. My life began when I saw you sitting on the cart in the sunshine wearing your blue dress with a red scarf in your hair. I know you may have to go, and if this is what you need, I will bear it. And people will hear me laugh and stamp about the place. They will shake their heads and wonder if I miss you at all.

Your Tamas