The hospital room. It was the second day and the woman was reading a book when we woke up.
“Good morning.” She greeted him with a smile. Her smile was never weary; he never got tired of seeing it. It’s like she could never be sad. “Another beautiful day outside.”
This time he looked towards the window. It was truly a wonderful day outside. He could only imagine the warmth of it, he could only imagine his childhood days when he used to fly his kite with his father in days such as that. He could imagine it as a memory, a distant happy and cheerful memory.
“He called me Kite.” He said to her. “He called me that and then he proceeded to explain how the sky and the sea are the two of the same thing, but God chose to separate it, so that there may be birds of the sky and the fishes of the sea.” He stopped and smiled despite himself. “He was a smart man, the smartest man I knew.”
“So now, you remember your name.” She said.
“I remember him and my mom. I remember them vividly as if they’re right next to me.”
“Very good. Keep recalling.”
“He was a man of books. She was a woman of emotions. They were two entities that needed to exist. He was logic and faith. She was love and beauty, but in the end they were still two similar beings. But then there was me who separated them, I was the horizon to their sky and sea.”
“It seems like you miss them.”
“More than anything else in this world.”
Kite swam further into the sea. He was breathing in the fresh air while his body numbed, but that only helped him to keep going. There was the horizon in front of him, the endless horizon he saw from the plane. Around him was the sea and up above him was the winter sky. Behind him was his family home. Behind him was his land.
When he was a kid, he remembers his father helping his mother memorize names of different plants. His mother loved gardening more than anything else in the world. She had all kinds of plants in her garden. One day his father came into the kitchen table carrying a big book.
“You must remember their names.” His father said to his mother with an eager smile.
“Oh, but why should I?” She asked.
“It’s essential that you call the beings with their right names.”
“Even plants?”
“Plants are God’s creation too. Senseless, numb and dumb they are, they are still living and they still have names. The greatest virtue that came into humanity is kindness and kindness can be given with a call of a name.”
“True.”
So his mother read the book and every time she was in her garden, she would call out her plant’s names. There was the land and then there were plants. She would talk to them as if they were human beings. She thought of them as her friends. Their garden grew to be beautiful. It was anticipated as both father and son knew that everything she touches and creates turns into beauty incarnate.
The world then changed in shape. The first living creation blossomed and bloomed, the land was fertile for it was green and vibrant. God was happy and so it was from then on.
“It seems that she was talented in creating beauty around her.” The woman said to him. The day has come into a close and a veil of stars has covered the skies, making the room shine with little glimmers of light.
“She was like that, even in her passing.” He answered and gave off a hurtful sigh. He then gave a smirk. “She was a pianist too, you know? She taught people how to garden, how to play the piano and how to compose music. She painted from time to time too. She loved to materialize beauty wherever she goes.”
A tear almost escaped his eye. He breathes in and then looked into the window, staring into the curtain of stars in the sky. “My father though, he was different.”
