Our Afternoon Walk

My daughter Brittany rocked with me in a weathered chair on the porch. I leaned back in my chair and spotted something beside the old barrel table. It took my breath away. My stepmother cleaned the house, but she missed this spot. Behind a large, intricate spider web, was a seashell.

It wasn’t just any shell; this was a secret my mother and I shared. The shell held an important place in my heart since it reminded me of my mother. Dad made fun of it. He refused to understand why it was important to me.

When I was a young girl, mom and I walked the beach each afternoon. Our duties around the house and the grounds were forgotten for an hour or so each day. This was our ritual whether it was hot or cold.

One cold afternoon, before I turned fourteen, we shared the most important afternoon of my life.

“Kennalyn, keep your heavy coat on. Let’s go for our walk.” Mom said as I dropped my books on the kitchen table.

“It’s cold outside. Let’s wait, the beach will be there tomorrow.”

The pallor of her skin was bad and her shoulders sagged when she stood. The treatments were taking a toll on her. I loved her blonde hair, but as it thinned the shine faded. The twinkle in her eyes vanished. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how.

“I want to go today. Please help me with my coat.” Her arms moved stiffly as I helped her.

We huddled together near the water’s edge. Cold air blew off the water, but we plowed ahead. I spotted a crab running across the sand. It’s legs kicked the sand. I turned and called to her. Then I noticed her tears.

I ran to her side and grabbed her hand. “What’s wrong Mom?”

Her weathered and worn hands curled around mine. “Kennalyn, you’re special and important to me. I don’t want you to hear this from anyone else.” What could she have to say?

“What do you want to tell me?” My bottom lip quivered.

“I talked to the doctor today and the cancer is worse. There isn’t much time left. Do you understand what this means?”

I shook my head that I did, and brushed the tip of my worn tennis shoe in the sand. She held my hand and we walked along the water’s edge. How long did we have? What would we do without her? Who would be there for us?

I shuffled my feet and was about to speak when my foot hit something. “Ouch, what was that?” I said with mild irritation.

Mom leaned over to see what it was. She brushed away the sand to reveal the most perfect conch shell I’d ever seen.

Mom shivered as she reached into the cold water, washed the sand off and handed the shell to me. The vivid colors glistened in the sun.

She smiled at me, “Keep this shell with you always. I won’t be here to help you and answer questions for you. Look at this shell and remember our perfect love. When things get rough, put the shell to your ear and I’ll speak to you.”

This shell always brought tears to my eyes. My shell was here and could comfort me when life had become so complicated.

I would translate this closeness to my daughter. It would be nice to start the same tradition with Brittany. I would explain to her what a wonderful woman who was her grandmother.

Nikki Leigh

August 2003

Postal Address - P O Box 711, Fishersville, VA 22939

Nikki's Email Address - nikki@nikkileigh.com

Last modified: 08/06/10