The Urn

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The Urn
by Geekydee

Geneva at the front desk was the first to see Kim come in on Take Your Daughter to Work Day and noticed she had some kind of Vase but didn’t say anything except her usual “Good Morning!”

"Morning Geneva, going to be an interesting day with all these girls here today, isn’t it?”

That it is, Ms. Martin, that it is. There have already been a few come through, including Mr. Franklin and his daughter.”

“Jeff Franklin, the CEO’s son? Wonder what he is doing here? Hmm, anyway, take care Geneva.”

“You too, Ms. Martin.”

After settling into her office, Kim carefully placed the urn, for that was what it was, on a safe spot on her desk, looking at it sadly. ‘I would have done anything to have you here with me Jade. I hope you know that, wherever you are,’ she thought to herself as a tear rolled down her cheek.

She was noticing all the various girls of different ages in the office taking interest in different areas, when Jeff came into her office and asked if she could mentor his daughter for 30 or so minutes while he had a confidential meeting. He then introduced his daughter. “Jess, this is Kimberly Martin, she manages Accounts Receivables. Kim, do you mind if I call you Kim? Or do you prefer Kimberly?”

“Kim is fine, as long as I can call you Jeff?”

“Sounds good. Kim, this is Jessica, but she prefers Jess usually. Anyway, I hate to run, but the meeting starts in a few. Take care and I’ll be in conference room 211. Oh, and thanks, I owe you one.”

“No problem!” Kim said with a smile in her voice

The two women sat there for a few moments, wondering what each would do, when Jess spoke up and asked, “So, what is Accounts Receivable? And you manage it all?” she continued, looking around the office.

“Yes, I manage this tiny part of your grandfather’s company. As to what we do, and as for Accounts Receivable, we basically take care of making sure the bills that get sent out get paid and take the money from that for the company,” Kim slowly explained to the young girl.

They then started talking about the different parts of the company for a few minutes before Jess asked, “What’s that vase on your desk for, did the flowers die?”

It was at this point that Jeff came back from his meeting and overheard the conversation and saw the urn on the desk for what it was and saw Kim go pale at the question. “Jess, could you go get me and Kim some bottles of water from the break room? Do you remember where it is?”

“Sure, dad, be back in a bit. I need to use the restroom anyway.”

“Be safe and watch out for falling sheep, hun!”

“Daaad!” she playfully replied before leaving.

“You okay, Kim?” he asked as she was slowly caressing the base of the urn.

“Yes, I think… No, I’m not, not really. I thought I could do this, but now? I don’t know,” she said, on the brink of tears.

Jeff sat and let her work it out.

“Did you know I lost Jude a year ago today? I thought I could handle it, but…” she said, remembering Jude’s final days in hospice at home.
“Jeff? Did you know we talked a lot towards the end, me and Jude? About everything and nothing, really, but the biggest thing that hurt was finding a daughter I never knew about. Right after Jude was diagnosed, Tom started working longer hours at the law firm, until he filed for divorce, like it was Jude and my fault he got cancer and he didn’t want to deal with it. After that, I used to joke with Jude that he was now the man of the house and had a lot to do when he got better. He always got introspective after that so I quit joking with him about it.”

“He tried to fight it, but it was a fast and aggressive cancer. Except at the end. In hospice care at home, we talked, maybe the drugs helped, or the pain meds allowed him to think past the pain. No idea. But he told me I was mistaken, that he was never the man of the house, and that was when he told me about Jade, the daughter I never met, nor ever knew. She told me about her hopes and dreams that were never to come true, the places she’d never see but had traveled to in her mind on the internet.” All the while as she was talking, she kept caressing the urn, and it slowly dawned on Jeff why she had brought the urn in that day.

Jeff could only sit there and think of his wife’s battle 2 years prior, when Kim started talking again.

She asked me if I would have taken her to a “Bring Your Daughter to Work Day” and I could only say “Yes, I would be proud to do that for you.” Our conversations after that got harder for her, but she made me promise to take her later, even though she knew she wouldn’t see that day. She also made me promise to continue loving everyone like her grandma said was in the Bible. What was I supposed to say? I said “Yes, baby, I will try.”
““Momma, don’t just try, please do it. For me?” That was the last conversation we had, but I knew she was free of pain. And free of the bigotry, prejudice, and hate. All that hate she would have faced. Is it wrong of me to try to see the blessing her death might have been, or does that make me a bad person? A bad mother?” And with that, Kim slowly started crying.

Jeff looked around and found the tissues on the shelf and got her a few. He then reached over and put her phone on Do Not Disturb and closed the door.

“Kim, does doing any of those things make you any of what you described? No, it makes you a mother who loved her child and didn’t want to see them hurt. When I lost Cyndi almost 2 years ago, I wondered about a lot of things: What was I going to do without her, who would take care of us, of Jess, so many thoughts ran through my mind. But it was Jess who brought it all into perspective. She came into my den one night while I was on a self-pity/self-doubt rollercoaster and told me, “Daddy, Mom sent me a dream and to tell you she loved you and me and that was enough for her. She also says we still have a lot of love, enough for others and to share it. What did she mean, Daddy?”

There was a timid knock at the door and Jeff got up to open it. Jess looked up at him then over to Kim. “Daddy? I sort of heard what you guys were talking about. Can I say something?”

After glancing at a slowly drying up Kim and receiving a nod, Jeff said, “Sure Pumpkin, what do you have to say?”

“When mom said “Love is enough.” I never knew what that meant. I know now. Ms. Martin, Jade knew this, but was probably too young to say it right, or well, or whatever. She was just trying to say your love was all she ever needed or wanted, and you were always there to give it. I think that was what mom was trying to tell me, too.” As she was saying this, she had started tearing up as well. “Daddy? When we get home, can we go talk to mom? Please?”

Sure thing kiddo,” he said as he gave her a hug.

Jess slowly worked her way out of the hug and walked over to Kim and hugged her tight, saying almost inaudibly “Thank you Mom,” as they both of them started to softly cry.

Finis
**************

That's it, typos and all, started 4 hours ago at the whim of my pesky Muse who got into the Monsters and White Chocolate...

She heard about the Challenge, found spouse's Monsters and my chocolate and this the what happened. Enjoy and may you shed less tears than I did while writing it. Be well and love all those around you. Hugs to all

Diana

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Comments

Thank you, Diana

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Buy your muse some chocolates. She did you a solid!

Hugs,

Emma

Thanks!

Muses are curious creatures, they are neither here nor there, yet reside within & without, and are forever unseen. And if they are ever revealed to you, I am sure that one would be driven mad, much as van Gogh was. And trust me, she more than earns her rewards, as is her due. be well.
Hugs
Diana

Thank you

Another creative jewel added to the crown. This is making for a good contest.

Ron

Thank you

Both for the comment and for including me with the other great authors here. Be well!
Hugs
Diana

Oh damn.

You got me started tearing up right out of the gate, and the hits just didn't stop. Glad I keep a tissue box on my desk.

Very sentimental and sweet.

- Leona

Thank you Leona

It's comments like yours that are the lifeblood of authors I am beginning to find. They help me know that I am striking a chord with my readers that resonates and creates the connections with my characters,. Be well and thank you again, I appreciate your, and everyone else's, comments.
Hugs
Diana

I can't see

Patricia Marie Allen's picture

I'm crying to hard. Few stories actually bring me to tears. Not just bring tears to my eyes, but rolling down my cheeks. Such a touching story, one of belated love and acceptance.

Kim found some kindred spirits. Perhaps it will be the spark of a deeper friendship between the three of them.

Hugs
Patricia

Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt

Sorry I mmissed the comment earlier

I thought I had replied to it, but was having issues with the system earlier this week while it was hating on me with 503 errors. I had a reader comment earlier and am giving thought to their suggestion of a closing non-tg chapter. Thanks for the feedback, be well and take care
Hugs
Diana

The Urn

Thank you for the tissue alert. I wonder if we spread this diet out to more Muse's if it would have a positive effect. If it brought more work like this it might be worth a try.

Time is the longest distance to your destination.

I think my Muse

Is colluding with my spouse. My spouse used to do large Pixy Stix (flavored sugar in a straw) and Red Bulls before working double shifts with a coworker. The girl ain't right and now she is rubbing off on my Muse...

Concise and powerful

Contests do seem to bring out some great writing. Thank you.

Thank you

The kind words, and even the criticisms, help writers hone and shape their craft. Be well,
Hugs \
Diana

That hurt

Good story but that one hurt

Thank yo Tels

That was the purpose, to expose the hurt to bring forth healing, much the way that a forest fire may leave desolation and scars but the forest comes back and heals. Be well and may all your hurts and pains heal.
Hugs
Diana

This story has been sitting here too long

because of "other things".
This really got under my solid unemotional defences, although from the start the significance of the title was obvious. All depended on what you had composed. You had composed very well, It had the same effect as certain musical pieces.
Now I must dry my eyes and get on with the unemotional realities of this time and place.
Dave

My style of writing sometimes does that

Someone elsewhere has described this style as guerilla writing, where the author does quick, short stories, designed to sneak in and hit the feelings of the reader. I hope it wasn't as strong as the feelings that I felt writing ig. Thank you for the comment. Be well!
Hugs
Diana

Thank you for the comment

I am trying to reply to story comments but it's a hard habit to start. If I ever do miss a reply to a comment, I apologize in advance; it is not meant as a slight, I assure you. Be well and take care,
Hugs
Diana

URN

Thank you for this special little story.
In just a few lines you explain what loves is.
Or should be.

Polly J

Thank you,

Your comment lets me know that I have reached people and means a lot. And thanks for acknowledging I got the meaning of love across so well, THAT means a lot, and that I struck the chord inside to have it resonate with you. Be well and take care!
Hugs
Diana

The Urn

As soon as I read the first line, I knew this was going to be a tear-jerker.
Beautifully written. Your characters speak from their hearts. Nothing fake. All love and support.
Then I looked at my sisters urn, sitting on the mantel.
That's when I lost it.
Thank you for writing such a beautiful and loving story.
Your fan,
Elron

Elron