{"id":923,"date":"2017-01-02T02:14:21","date_gmt":"2017-01-01T20:14:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/?p=923"},"modified":"2024-12-06T00:28:36","modified_gmt":"2024-12-05T18:28:36","slug":"a-class-act","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/?p=923","title":{"rendered":"A CLASS ACT"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, it&#8217;s New Year&#8217;s Day 2017.\u00a0 Where did the last<\/span><\/strong><img loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/images\/santascott.jpg\" alt=\"Santa Scott\" width=\"154\" height=\"235\" align=\"right\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" \/><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\"> six months go?\u00a0 I write a blahg about Superman in the middle of June in 2016 and then it&#8217;s more than half a year before I get to a new one.\u00a0 In that last blahg, I included a poem called &#8220;if you&#8217;d be a superman&#8221;.\u00a0 The title is appropriate because I&#8217;m certainly not the man of steel.\u00a0 Let&#8217;s hope I get this blahg done today.\u00a0 I started it several times in December and hoped to have it done by the end of 2016.\u00a0 Now I&#8217;m aiming for January 1st, 2017.\u00a0 Here goes nothing.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This blahg has a certain theme to it but there is also going to be a mishmash of sorts.\u00a0 The main point I want to talk about is two class act bands that I had the opportunity to interact with, of a sort, in December and prove that sometimes the smaller the band, the bigger the heart.\u00a0 I know that&#8217;s like schmaltz but I haven&#8217;t written in a while so you get what you get.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Let me first start off by talking about The Weepies.\u00a0 <a href=\"https:\/\/i.ytimg.com\/vi\/3PmXpT6ejE4\/maxresdefault.jpg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/i.ytimg.com\/vi\/3PmXpT6ejE4\/maxresdefault.jpg\" alt=\"The Weepies\" width=\"298\" height=\"224\" \/><\/a>I have talked about The Weepies before and if you have read previous blahgs you should know by now that The Weepies are an American indie pop-folk duo of married singer-songwriters Deb Talan and Steve Tannen.\u00a0 There are other musicians that have performed with them but I want to focus on just Deb and Steve.\u00a0 The reason for this is that they recently did an acoustic tour in the USA and Canada.\u00a0 Okay, there were only two cities included in Canada, Toronto and Montreal, but Toronto was enough for me.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I am not a big fan of Facebook.\u00a0 Don&#8217;t ask, that&#8217;s another blahg altogether.\u00a0 The only Facebook page I follow with any regularity is The Weepies&#8217; page.\u00a0 In November they announced they were going to do an acoustic tour in their mini-van with just Deb and Steve, their children, and their guitars.\u00a0 I was excited but there were no Canadians dates announced.\u00a0 There was one date on December 1st in Buffalo, NY, and I thought I might be able to make that event because it&#8217;s only four hours from where I live.\u00a0 Luckily, my daughter Emily was monitoring a concert posting website for Toronto when The Weepies announced that they were going to give a show at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2nd.\u00a0 You can well imagine, and it was true, that I bought my two tickets right away.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I won&#8217;t go into a lot of other details about the show except to say the venue was interesting.\u00a0 My wife and I had to walk thirty minutes from our hotel to get there and then stand in a room with about a hundred people throughout the entire concert.\u00a0 I stood on some stairs so I could see a partially unobstructed view of Steve and Deb.\u00a0 My legs were tired at the end of the night but it was a wonderful concert.\u00a0 I found these images online from the concert in Toronto so you can see what I mostly saw:<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\t\t<style type=\"text\/css\">\n\t\t\t#gallery-1 {\n\t\t\t\tmargin: auto;\n\t\t\t}\n\t\t\t#gallery-1 .gallery-item {\n\t\t\t\tfloat: left;\n\t\t\t\tmargin-top: 10px;\n\t\t\t\ttext-align: center;\n\t\t\t\twidth: 33%;\n\t\t\t}\n\t\t\t#gallery-1 img {\n\t\t\t\tborder: 2px solid #cfcfcf;\n\t\t\t}\n\t\t\t#gallery-1 .gallery-caption {\n\t\t\t\tmargin-left: 0;\n\t\t\t}\n\t\t\t\/* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes\/media.php *\/\n\t\t<\/style>\n\t\t<div id='gallery-1' class='gallery galleryid-923 gallery-columns-3 gallery-size-thumbnail'><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-2-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-2-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-928\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-928'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-3-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-3-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-929\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-929'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-4-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-4-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-930\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-930'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><br style=\"clear: both\" \/><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-5-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-5-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-931\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-931'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-6-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-6-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-932\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-932'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-7-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-7-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-933\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-933'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><br style=\"clear: both\" \/><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-8-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-8-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-934\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-934'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-9-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-9-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-935\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-935'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><dl class='gallery-item'>\n\t\t\t<dt class='gallery-icon landscape'>\n\t\t\t\t<a href='http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-copy.jpg'><img width=\"150\" height=\"150\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/the-weepies-drake-hotel-toronto-2016-copy-150x150.jpg\" class=\"attachment-thumbnail size-thumbnail\" alt=\"\" loading=\"lazy\" aria-describedby=\"gallery-1-936\" \/><\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/dt>\n\t\t\t\t<dd class='wp-caption-text gallery-caption' id='gallery-1-936'>\n\t\t\t\tThe Weepies perform at the Drake Hotel in Toronto on December 2, 2016\n\t\t\t\t<\/dd><\/dl><br style=\"clear: both\" \/>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I wanted to take some video of the concert but I couldn&#8217;t shut off the bright light on my cell phone.\u00a0 I decided to record part of the concert from my pocket but I only managed to record part of the song &#8220;Jolene&#8221; sung by Steve and part of his next song about a Jig.\u00a0 Here they are:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<!--[if lt IE 9]><script>document.createElement('audio');<\/script><![endif]-->\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-923-1\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Jolene.mp3?_=1\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Jolene.mp3\">http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Jolene.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-923-2\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Jig.mp3?_=2\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Jig.mp3\">http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Jig.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I did manage to find the following video online that someone posted from that concert in Toronto.\u00a0 This is The Weepies performing &#8220;Ever Said Goodbye&#8221;:\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/fnHDADQ9pjM\" width=\"460\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Just one last wrap up on this fantastic concert.\u00a0 Deb Talen will be releasing a solo album this coming Spring.\u00a0 She sang a couple of her new songs when she was in Toronto but I could only find the following video of one of those new songs, &#8220;Butterfly&#8221;, from her Detroit, Ohio concert two nights prior to the Toronto concert.\u00a0 It&#8217;s a fantastic song and I can&#8217;t wait for the new album.\u00a0 It&#8217;s going to be great!\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/5PI5yHXmjXk\" width=\"460\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Now on to another class act and the one that inspired this blahg.\u00a0 My daughter and I are fans of the currently airing TV Show &#8220;The Goldbergs&#8221;.\u00a0 <a href=\"https:\/\/images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com\/images\/I\/51FZNx2gRFL.jpg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"https:\/\/images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com\/images\/I\/51FZNx2gRFL.jpg noopener\"><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignright\" src=\"https:\/\/images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com\/images\/I\/51FZNx2gRFL.jpg\" alt=\"The Goldbergs\" width=\"249\" height=\"346\" \/><\/a>This is not to be confused with &#8220;The Goldbergs&#8221; TV Show that aired in the 1950s of which I&#8217;m the only fan in my household&#8230;but I digress.\u00a0 The current show, &#8220;The Goldbergs&#8221; has a very interesting theme song sung by a group called &#8220;I Fight Dragons&#8221;.\u00a0 The song is called &#8220;Rewind&#8221; and has never been officially released so give it a listen:\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><!-- Start Genius MP3 Player: I FIGHT DRAGONS - REWIND --><\/p>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-923-3\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Rewind.mp3?_=3\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Rewind.mp3\">http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/audiofiles\/Rewind.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As a result of liking the theme song,\u00a0 my daughter Abbie, has become a huge fan of &#8220;I Fight Dragons.&#8221;\u00a0 The only problem is that she didn&#8217;t own any of their music and had to stream it from the internet.\u00a0 We all know the varying ranges of quality that can produce.\u00a0 So, for her Birthday, which was December 16th, she asked for some &#8220;I Fight Dragons&#8221; CDs.\u00a0 The only problem was that online retailers in Canada pegged individual CDs at over $200 a piece because they were limited runs.\u00a0 I tried other sources and didn&#8217;t fare much better.\u00a0 I then turned to the &#8220;I Fight Dragons&#8221; website and their online store but everything seemed to be out of stock when I tried to order from there.\u00a0 I told Abbie about the problem and she gave up all hopes of owning their music officially.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It would probably be at that point that most people would give up.\u00a0 Not me.\u00a0 I decided to email the administrator of the I Fight Dragons website to see if something could be done.\u00a0 The following represent the email exchanges:<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><em>December 5th, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Hello,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>I hope you can help me.\u00a0 My 17 year old daughter, who will be 18 on December 16th, is a huge fan of I Fight Dragons and really wants some of your CDs.\u00a0 Unfortunately we live in Canada and can&#8217;t find them up here.\u00a0 I&#8217;ve also tried ordering from your online store but it keeps telling me items are out of stock.\u00a0 Is there any other venues for me to purchase the CDs in time for Christmas?<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Thanks, <\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Scott Henderson<br \/>\n<\/em><\/h4>\n<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<\/p>\n<div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\">\n<h4><em>December 6, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Hi Scott,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Apologies!\u00a0 We are in the midst of a slow-motion transition to a new web store provider, so lots of things are currently out of stock but we&#8217;re not set up on the new web store yet.\u00a0 I&#8217;d be happy to provide you a direct link through PayPal and ship them your way this week if that works for you?\u00a0 What were you interested in purchasing?<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>-Brian<\/em><\/h4>\n<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<\/p>\n<h4><em>December 6, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Brian,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>That&#8217;s awesome.\u00a0 I would like to know the cost of the following CDs:<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Cool Is Just a Number (2009)<\/em><br \/>\n<em> Welcome to the Breakdown (2010)<\/em><br \/>\n<em> KABOOM! (2011)<\/em><br \/>\n<em> The Near Future (2014)<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>I live in Canada, so if you could give me a quote with shipping that would be great.\u00a0 PayPal would be fine.<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Are you one of the members of the band?<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>&#8211;Scott<\/em><\/h4>\n<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<\/p>\n<h4><em>December 7, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\">\n<h4><em>Hi Scott,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>I am indeed the lead singer \ud83d\ude42 But I also sort of run the back end.\u00a0 (Brian then gives me quotes on the CDs and their new LP plus shipping)<\/em><\/h4>\n<div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\">\n<h4><em>-Brian<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<\/h4>\n<h4><em>December 7, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<h4><em>Brian,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>That is great.\u00a0 I will take the 3 CD set and The Near Future Vinyl.\u00a0 We have a a nice stereo system with turntable and plenty of vinyl in our house (my personal favorite format).\u00a0 I will also take the Priority Mail International.\u00a0 If you could send me a PayPal invoice for everything to this email address, that would be great.\u00a0 Any chance you could drop a note in for my daughter, Abbie, and say something like &#8220;thanks for being a fan.&#8221;\u00a0 No big deal if you can&#8217;t, but I appreciate everything you are doing for me.\u00a0 This will make her very happy.\u00a0 Also, she&#8217;s always saying she hopes you come up to Canada, maybe Toronto, because she&#8217;d love to see you in concert.\u00a0 I understand you are out of Chicago, I believe.\u00a0 I took Abbie there about 5 years ago.\u00a0 Nice city.<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Thanks again,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>&#8211;Scott<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<\/h4>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A couple of emails were exchanged about the payment and the CDs being shipped out.\u00a0 Everything arrived in time for Abbie&#8217;s Birthday and I can tell you that she was shocked to receive the CDs and LP and the personalized postcard (images below of front and back) included in the package.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\"><a href=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgfront.jpg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-957 size-medium\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgfront-300x227.jpg\" alt=\"ifgfront\" width=\"300\" height=\"227\" srcset=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgfront-300x227.jpg 300w, http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgfront-768x582.jpg 768w, http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgfront-1024x776.jpg 1024w, http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgfront.jpg 1636w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgback.jpg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-956 size-medium\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgback-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"ifgback\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" srcset=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgback-300x225.jpg 300w, http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgback-768x576.jpg 768w, http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgback-1024x768.jpg 1024w, http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/ifgback.jpg 1664w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/a><\/div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\"><\/div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\"><\/div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Here are two more email exchanges after the package arrived:<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<div dir=\"ltr\"><\/div>\n<h4 dir=\"ltr\"><em>December 17th, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>Brian,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>I just wanted to tell you that the package arrived earlier this week.\u00a0 Yesterday was Abbie&#8217;s birthday and so she was able to have the CDs and album to open yesterday.\u00a0 I have to tell you, it brought tears to her eyes; especially the personalized note.\u00a0 Thank you so much for making this happening.\u00a0 What a class act!!!\u00a0 You rock!<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>-Scott<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<\/h4>\n<h4><em>December 17, 2016<\/em><\/h4>\n<div>\n<h4><em>Hi Scott,<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>That&#8217;s wonderful!! I&#8217;m so glad to hear the package made it there in time and that Abbie was happy with it.<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>A very happy holidays to you and your family!<\/em><\/h4>\n<h4><em>-Brian<\/em><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Now you don&#8217;t need to wonder why I used the words &#8220;CLASS ACT&#8221;.\u00a0 Abbie wasn&#8217;t just impressed by her new music but by the personal emails from Brian.\u00a0 This is something that she will remember for a long time.\u00a0 Thank you Brian and I Fight Dragons!\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I&#8217;m going to close this blahg now but not before being a little self-serving.\u00a0 I finally found the 2004 Dead From The Neck Up Christmas tape.\u00a0 The tape of that show has been missing for about 20 years.\u00a0 I found it last year and have finally uploaded it for your listening enjoyment:\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-923-4\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/dead\/audiofiles\/xmasshow1994.mp3?_=4\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/dead\/audiofiles\/xmasshow1994.mp3\">http:\/\/falseducks.com\/dead\/audiofiles\/xmasshow1994.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Another Dead From The Neck Up Christmas file was also forgotten.\u00a0 I recorded a new track in 2014 to share with my friends but I don&#8217;t think I ever uploaded it here.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-923-5\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/dead\/audiofiles\/stanxmas2014.mp3?_=5\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/dead\/audiofiles\/stanxmas2014.mp3\">http:\/\/falseducks.com\/dead\/audiofiles\/stanxmas2014.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And finally I&#8217;m going to post the Christmas story that I wrote in 2015.\u00a0 I forgot to post it here so I&#8217;m going to rectify that.\u00a0 Happy New Year 2017 to everyone and let&#8217;s hope, in the words of Frank Sinatra, we find Peace in the world and peace among ourselves.<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4 style=\"text-align: center;\">All I Want For Christmas Is\u2026<\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4>It was getting on to Christmas; at least that\u2019s what the stores would have one think.\u00a0 It was early in December and holiday adornment and advertising was fair game.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ms. Harper locked up her classroom for the day and trundled her way down the hall weighted down with book bag, computer bag, lunch bag, and a loose bundle of theme papers to be graded over the weekend.\u00a0 \u201cAll I want for Christmas is\u201d would make for one afternoon\u2019s fascinating reading.\u00a0 No doubt she\u2019d be apprised of all of the hot ticket items for this yuletide season.\u00a0 Nine year olds never asked for World Peace.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper stifled a laugh.\u00a0 World Peace had always been a little joke between Ms. Harper and her Mother.\u00a0 Her Mother had once chided her about not asking for World Peace whenever she was questioned about what she wanted for her Birthday or Christmas.\u00a0 Her Mother would always say it should be the top of the list because everything else comes second.\u00a0 Ms. Harper never failed to offer up World Peace after that whenever she had a Birthday wish or made out her Christmas list.\u00a0 She never got it but it never hurt to ask.<\/h4>\n<h4>Thoughts of her Mother filled her mind most of the time.\u00a0 On Friday afternoons she always went to see her Mother.\u00a0 The drive out to Friendship Manor, how she hated that name, was her ritual before officially starting her weekend.\u00a0 It had been almost two years since her Mother had been moved into the Manor.\u00a0 It had been a rough few years for Ms. Harper and her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>It started four years ago with the passing of her Father.\u00a0 He\u2019d been a strong man but a little distant.\u00a0 He had raised her the best he had known how but there had always been something missing in their relationship.\u00a0 Maybe he had wanted a boy.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had always wondered about that.\u00a0 He was never big on displays of affection with her or her Mother but he had always been there for them.\u00a0 Then he was gone.\u00a0 It had been a heart attack; nothing long and drawn out.\u00a0 It was quick. \u00a0And then he was gone.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had loved her Father but they had been more like acquaintances in the later years.\u00a0 He was more formal and only casually interested in her life and career.\u00a0 Now he was gone.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother had taken everything in stride.\u00a0 She had weathered her husband\u2019s death and had moved on.\u00a0 She had been well provided for when he was alive and after his passing.\u00a0 The house had been paid for and insurance and pensions had left her in a good position.\u00a0 Then came the accident.\u00a0 She had fallen getting out of her car.\u00a0 She had slipped on a patch of ice one January and went down hard; fracturing her hip.\u00a0 She needed to be hospitalized for eight weeks following her surgery.<\/h4>\n<h4>While she was in the hospital, Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother had been diagnosed with dementia.\u00a0 She began to decline in the hospital.\u00a0 The Doctor had explained that it was a form of functional dementia.\u00a0 In her own environment, namely her home, she had done well but now in the hospital the dementia began to be a little more aggressive.\u00a0 The dementia had probably been there for some time.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had noticed little things.\u00a0 Her Mother had become more forgetful.\u00a0 Sometimes she had struggled for a certain word or had a hard time recalling a memory.\u00a0 In the hospital, her physiotherapy was slowed by her mood.\u00a0 Some days she would struggle to work with the aid of walker and a therapist.\u00a0 Other days she refused to get out of bed.\u00a0 There was one bad day when she didn\u2019t recognize Ms. Harper at all.\u00a0 There were some good days when her memory was good and Ms. Harper could talk with her Mother but those came infrequently.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper had visited her Mother every day throughout those eight weeks.\u00a0 It was hard to see her Mother like that.\u00a0 She had her good days and her bad days but at least she regained some of her memories of her daughter.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t talk as much and some visits at the hospital just consisted of Ms. Harper holding her Mother\u2019s hand and reading to her.<\/h4>\n<h4>Now her Mother was in Friendship Manor.\u00a0 How she hated that name.\u00a0 At least the Manor lived up to its name.\u00a0 It had become obvious that her Mother could not return to her home after her hospital stay.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had made all the arrangements and had taken care of selling the house and car.\u00a0 Her Mother was still being provided for but in the hands of strangers.\u00a0 Her Mother had been at the Manor now for two years.\u00a0 She still didn\u2019t speak much and she rarely recognized Ms. Harper as her daughter.\u00a0 She was this nice lady who came every Friday and read to her.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper looked at the bundle of theme papers clutched in her hand.\u00a0 These would be good to read to her Mother.\u00a0 It would help Ms. Harper get through them quicker.\u00a0 Then she would have the rest of the weekend to herself.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper lived alone.\u00a0 There was no one else.\u00a0 She had no siblings and she had never married.\u00a0 She had no children.\u00a0 There were twenty-five of them each year for ten months that she could call her own.\u00a0 She was a good teacher but she wasn\u2019t a parent.\u00a0 The children all had parents of their own.\u00a0 They didn\u2019t need Ms. Harper to act the part.\u00a0 The faces changed every year but that was fine by her.\u00a0 She was good with that kind of detachment.<\/h4>\n<h4>Maybe it had been the way she had been raised.\u00a0 Her Father had been detached and she became accustomed to that.\u00a0 Her Mother had been a different story.\u00a0 Her Mother was always quick with emotions.\u00a0 She had doted on her daughter despite her husband chastising that she was spoiling the child.\u00a0 Still, it could not be denied there was a special bond between the Mother and the daughter.\u00a0 Now it was all but gone.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper recalled her youth.\u00a0 She\u2019d been happy.\u00a0 Her Mother was mainly the reason for that happiness.\u00a0 Her Mother had always been there for her.\u00a0 Her Mother had not worked outside of the home and when her daughter was at home, she was always spending time with her.\u00a0 She always loved to brush her daughter\u2019s hair or snatch her up in her arms and hug her.\u00a0 Ms. Harper recalled those hugs.\u00a0 Her Mother\u2019s arms had always been so warm.\u00a0 It had been a long time since Ms. Harper had felt that warmth.\u00a0 Now, it was Ms. Harper who initiated the hugs with her Mother.\u00a0 The warmth wasn\u2019t there now.\u00a0 It was like hugging a stranger.<\/h4>\n<h4>Glancing at the theme papers again, Ms. Harper remembered her own Christmases.\u00a0 There had always been a tree; a real tree.\u00a0 Despite, his detachment, Christmas was something her Father seemed to enjoy.\u00a0 Maybe that was from his youth.\u00a0 Ms. Harper didn\u2019t know but there had always been a real tree.\u00a0 And there had been ornaments.\u00a0 Many of these had been homemade.\u00a0 Ms. Harper and her Mother had made most of these themselves.\u00a0 There had been many years when her Mother and she had sat down to an evening of ornament making.\u00a0 Clay angels or Santas or trees or reindeers had been baked in the oven and hand painted.\u00a0 There had been wood ornaments her Father had cut out and Mother and daughter had adorned with paint and glitter.\u00a0 There had been store bought ornaments, too.\u00a0 Each had been specially selected on shopping outings.\u00a0 Christmas had been the one good time she could look forward to each year and the one good memory she could still hold onto.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper still had most of the ornaments in boxes.\u00a0 Most everything else had been sold at the same time the house had gone.\u00a0 She always got herself a little tree every year from a lot near her home.\u00a0 She pulled out her favorite ornaments from the boxes.\u00a0 She would watch some old Christmas movie on television and then go to bed.\u00a0 On Christmas morning she would go out and see her Mother.\u00a0 The Manor always put up a Christmas brunch and the place was overflowing with residents, family members, and friends as well as the staff.\u00a0 It was the only time Ms. Harper would visit her Mother when she knew there would be a crowd.<\/h4>\n<h4>On Fridays, after school, she would drive out to the Manor and spend a couple of hours with her Mother.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t so busy then.\u00a0 She had tried going once or twice on a Saturday or Sunday but there were too many others visiting their relatives.\u00a0 Ms. Harper didn\u2019t want to have to engage with others.\u00a0 Her time with her Mother was her private time and she didn\u2019t like to share it.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t like to share much of anything about her Mother.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t really matter because there really wasn\u2019t anyone else to share with.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHeading out, Lee?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper turned in the direction of the voice.\u00a0 It was Mr. Clarke.\u00a0 He taught sixth grade.\u00a0 He too was weighted down with bags and papers.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOh hello, Mr. Clarke\u2026 John,\u201d she quickly corrected herself. It was a reflex action to refer to another teacher by their surname when in the school.\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t close with most of the teachers and using their first names did not come easy to her.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t often she heard others use her first name either.\u00a0 \u201cYes, another week done.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cNot many left now until the Christmas break,\u201d Mr. Clarke replied.\u00a0 He was a handsome man about Ms. Harper\u2019s age.\u00a0 His looks were pleasing and certainly not lost on Ms. Harper.\u00a0 He was single, like her, but there had been a Mrs. Clarke once.\u00a0 School gossip always abounded.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cNo, not many now.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper looked down at the papers in her hand.\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t look directly at him for long.\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t deny there was something there.\u00a0 She just didn\u2019t know how to handle it.\u00a0 She was accustomed to distance.\u00a0 There had been few men in her life and she hadn\u2019t been really close with any of them.\u00a0 Certainly there had been her Father and now he was gone.\u00a0 There had been boyfriends or male friends but not many.\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t see herself in a long relationship and most of them just moved on after a time.\u00a0 She always reminded herself it was her and not them.\u00a0 She was accustomed to distance.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cSay, Lee, you wouldn\u2019t want to go for coffee or a bite to eat, would you?\u201d\u00a0 There was a faint smile from Mr. Clarke\u2019s handsome face.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper looked up at him.\u00a0 There was something there but the timing was wrong.\u00a0 She had to go see her Mother.\u00a0 The timing was always wrong.\u00a0 It made her feel awkward.\u00a0 He was a handsome man who wanted to go out with her.\u00a0 But the thought of coffee or a meal might lead to more coffee or more meals.\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t ready for that.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI can\u2019t, Mr. Clarke, John,\u201d she stammered.\u00a0 \u201cI have to be somewhere.\u201d\u00a0 That was true but the thought was that right now she wanted to be somewhere other than here.\u00a0 She was good with distance.\u00a0 It was the closeness with which she had a hard time.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat\u2019s okay,\u201d Mr. Clarke replied.\u00a0 \u201cI have some math tests to grade.\u201d\u00a0 The smile didn\u2019t fade.\u00a0 \u201cMaybe another time, then?\u201d\u00a0 There was some hopefulness in his voice.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cAnother time,\u201d Ms. Harper answered matter-of-factually, and looked away.\u00a0 Maybe another time she thought.\u00a0 Maybe there was a time when she would have answered differently.\u00a0 Maybe there would be another time in the future when she would answer differently.\u00a0 It was the closeness.\u00a0 It always got in the way.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper held on close to her burdens and hurried to her car.\u00a0 The closeness of the inside of her small car was something she could handle.\u00a0 She felt safe.\u00a0 It was just her and her thoughts.\u00a0 All of those thoughts of Mr. Clarke, John, and all those other relationships; even if there hadn\u2019t been many.\u00a0 She thought of her Father and her Mother.\u00a0 Recalling her Mother, she started the car and started for the Manor.<\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother was in her room.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t often that she found her Mother in the hall or in one of the common rooms.\u00a0 If she did, she would quickly escort her Mother back to the closeness of her room.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHello, Mama,\u201d Ms. Harper began, on seeing her Mother.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s Lee.\u201d\u00a0 As if reminding her Mother of her own daughter\u2019s name would help bring her back to her.\u00a0 She hugged her Mother instinctively but there was nothing between them.\u00a0 There was no warmth in this hug.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother looked good.\u00a0 Someone had brushed her hair.\u00a0 Her Mother had always had such beautiful long hair.\u00a0 Ms. Harper kept her own hair long like her Mother.\u00a0 It was the only thing they now shared in common.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper looked about the room.\u00a0 It was a nice room.\u00a0 It was clean and bright.\u00a0 The late afternoon sun streamed in the window.\u00a0 Its light illuminated the small personal items on her Mother\u2019s dresser and night table.\u00a0 Personal items salvaged from her home before the sale.\u00a0 Many of them with a significance now lost to time.\u00a0 There were a couple of photos of her Father.\u00a0 There was one of her parents on some long ago beach.\u00a0 There were some photos of Ms. Harper in younger days; nothing current.\u00a0 She looked like her Mother.\u00a0 At least the long hair was the same.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI\u2019ve brought some theme papers, Mama.\u201d\u00a0 Why did she call her Mama?\u00a0 It was always what she\u2019d called her; never Mom or Mommy.\u00a0 It had always been Mama as far back as Ms. Harper could recall.\u00a0 \u201cI thought I would read some of them to you.\u00a0 Won\u2019t that be nice?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother looked at her but said nothing.\u00a0 Did she recognize her own daughter?\u00a0 Was there a memory that was trying to work its way to the front?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYou look good, Mama.\u00a0 I like your hair.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper didn\u2019t like the silence between them.\u00a0 Even hearing her own voice was better than nothing.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper reached out and grabbed her Mother\u2019s hands and brought them to her lips and kissed them.\u00a0 Her Mother\u2019s hands were warm but it didn\u2019t mean the old warmth was there.\u00a0 Her Mother snatched back her hands and folded them in her lap.\u00a0 Ms. Harper was not startled by the gesture.\u00a0 It happened every week.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMr. Clarke asked me out to coffee, Mama.\u00a0 You remember me mentioning, Mr. Clarke, John?\u201d\u00a0 Of course she didn\u2019t.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t even remember her own daughter.\u00a0 What need was there in Ms. Harper that she would want to share this information about Mr. Clarke with her Mother?\u00a0 Maybe just saying it aloud would help her accept the fact that someone else was interested in her.\u00a0 Ms. Harper looked away from her Mother and decided to let it drop.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cAll I want for Christmas is,\u201d Ms. Harper began again; moving on to a safer topic, \u201cWorld Peace.\u00a0 Do you remember that, Mama?\u00a0 You always told me it should be at the top of the list because everything else comes second.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper looked into her Mother\u2019s eyes but there was no acknowledgement or recognition there.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper picked up the first of the theme papers and began to read to her Mother.\u00a0 There were the normal requests there.\u00a0 Someone wanted the latest video game.\u00a0 Someone wanted some figure skates.\u00a0 There were action figures, games, electronics, music CDs, and the list went on.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cAll I want for Christmas is,\u201d she began again on another paper.\u00a0 She was interrupted by her Mother beginning to hum.\u00a0 Ms. Harper looked at her Mother.\u00a0 It had been a long time since her Mother had hummed or even sung; certainly not since living in the Manor.<\/h4>\n<h4>Startled, Ms. Harper looked intently at her Mother.\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s that you\u2019re humming Mama?\u201d\u00a0 She didn\u2019t want her Mother to stop.\u00a0 It was a touching moment.\u00a0 The humming stopped however as quickly as it began.\u00a0 Ms. Harper was upset with herself for interrupting her Mother.\u00a0 It was a touching moment and now it was gone.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMiss Annabelle, Lee.\u00a0 All I want for Christmas is Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother stared straight ahead and repeated the last part again.\u00a0 \u201cAll I want for Christmas is Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper was taken aback.\u00a0 Her Mother rarely spoke and now she had addressed her daughter by her name.<\/h4>\n<h4>She snatched up her Mother\u2019s hands again.\u00a0 \u201cYes, it\u2019s me Mama.\u00a0 It\u2019s Lee.\u201d\u00a0 Tears began to form and cascade down Ms. Harper\u2019s cheeks.\u00a0 Her Mother was still in there.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWho&#8217;s wonderful, who&#8217;s marvellous?\u201d her Mother continued.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper held tightly to her Mother\u2019s hands.\u00a0 What was this?\u00a0 What memory was this?\u00a0 Those words and that little tune her Mother had hummed were familiar.\u00a0 If only Ms. Harper could recall the memory.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWhat is that from Mama?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMiss Annabelle, Lee.\u00a0 All I want for Christmas is Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u201d\u00a0 Her Mother continued to stare straight ahead.\u00a0 If she had been addressing her daughter, it wasn\u2019t direct.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u201cMama, what is it?\u00a0 Who is Miss Annabelle?\u201d The tears continued to stain Ms. Harper\u2019s face.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother was now silent.\u00a0 Whatever the thought or the memory, it was gone now but Ms. Harper couldn\u2019t let it go.\u00a0 Her Mother had recognized her; the memory of her daughter caught up in some other memory.\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMama, it\u2019s me.\u00a0 It\u2019s Lee.\u00a0 You remember.\u00a0 You were telling me about Miss Annabelle.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper didn\u2019t want to let it go.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t want to let her Mother go.\u00a0 She had to come back.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother withdrew her hands from Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She was silent and her gaze did not fall upon her daughter.\u00a0 Ms. Harper felt cold.\u00a0 Her Mother\u2019s hands hand been warm and her Mother\u2019s words had been warmer still.\u00a0 For one shining moment that distance that had been between them for the past two years had closed and her Mother had come back to her.\u00a0 Now the warmth and her Mother were gone again.<\/h4>\n<h4>Who was wonderful?\u00a0 Who was marvellous?\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 All of these questions swept over Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She needed answers.\u00a0 She needed to bring her Mother back to her.\u00a0 Maybe if she could solve the mystery of those questions, she could again bridge that distance between her Mother and herself.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper wiped away the remaining tears.\u00a0 Yes, she had been moved to tears and that hadn\u2019t happened in a long time.\u00a0 She had shed tears when her Father had died and again, for the last time, when she left her Mother that first day here at the Manor.\u00a0 But these tears were different.\u00a0 These were tears for something that she had lost but had regained; if only momentarily.\u00a0 Ms. Harper felt embarrassed for the tears.\u00a0 They had served no purpose now.\u00a0 If her Mother had seen them, she had not acknowledged them.\u00a0 Whatever had passed between them just now had not been shared by her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper suddenly felt awkward with the closeness of her Mother\u2019s room.\u00a0 Like earlier, with the awkwardness between her and Mr. Clarke, Ms. Harper felt the need to be somewhere other than here.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cIt\u2019s getting late, Mama,\u201d she began.\u00a0 \u201cYou must be tired.\u00a0 I\u2019ll leave you now.\u201d\u00a0 She thought to grasp her Mother\u2019s hands again but she couldn\u2019t bring herself to do it.\u00a0 These past few moments had been too much for her and not enough.\u00a0 She leaned in and kissed her Mother\u2019s cheek.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll be back again soon Mama.\u201d\u00a0 She wanted to add that she hoped her Mother would be back soon, too.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper awkwardly grabbed up the theme papers and left her Mother.\u00a0 On the way to her car, she quietly cursed the theme papers and what they had brought to her Mother in the closeness of her room and what they had as quickly taken away.<\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper sat up late that night.\u00a0 She could not sleep.\u00a0 She tried to tell herself that what happened that day did not bother her.\u00a0 She tried to convince herself that distance was the answer.\u00a0 If she could only put distance between herself and what had happened then she would be fine.\u00a0 She was good with distance.<\/h4>\n<h4>It was no use.\u00a0 Ms. Harper could not distance herself from it all.\u00a0 It had really happened.\u00a0 Her Mother had come back and had tried to share something with her.\u00a0 What was it?\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?<\/h4>\n<h4>It had been a long day.\u00a0 The children in her class had been excited for the weekend.\u00a0 Fridays were always that way and she had to try and instill discipline but more often than not just tried to ride out the remainder of the day.<\/h4>\n<h4>Then there had been that awkwardness with Mr. Clarke, John.\u00a0 She should have accepted his offer for coffee or something to eat.\u00a0 How many more offers would there really be?\u00a0 She tried to think he would ask again.\u00a0 Would her answer be different next time?\u00a0 It was that closeness again.\u00a0 Why did she have such a hard time with it?\u00a0 Why was distance so much easier to handle?<\/h4>\n<h4>Who was Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 That question and that moment with her Mother kept flooding back.\u00a0 She\u2019d tried to think of other things, school, Mr. Clarke, but what happened with her Mother kept riding roughshod over everything else.<\/h4>\n<h4>Who\u2019s wonderful?\u00a0 Who\u2019s marvellous?\u00a0 Her Mother had asked these questions as well.\u00a0 Did her Mother even know the answers herself?\u00a0 And the humming, what was that?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMiss Annabelle, wonderful, marvellous.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper found herself wondering aloud.\u00a0 \u201cAll I want for Christmas is you, Mama.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper eventually gave in and went to bed.\u00a0 Her dreams were full of her Mother.\u00a0 In them, Ms. Harper was a little girl again.\u00a0 Her mother was singing something.\u00a0 Little Ms. Harper could not make it out but when her Mother stopped and scooped her up in those arms, it was warm.\u00a0 Her Mother\u2019s arms were so warm.<\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper went back to the Manor the next day.\u00a0 This was unusual for her.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t like seeing all of the other families.\u00a0 It was something she was willing to endure, however, \u00a0if she could connect again with her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>She found her Mother in her room.\u00a0 She was not alone.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother was with one of the staff.\u00a0 She was having her hair brushed.\u00a0 The staff member was speaking softly to her.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cIt\u2019s alright Mrs. Harper.\u00a0 No harm was done.\u00a0 You didn\u2019t hurt anyone.\u00a0 You didn\u2019t mean to scare that little girl.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper cleared her throat so she could make her presence known.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOh,\u201d the staff member began, a little startled, \u201clook, Mrs. Harper, it\u2019s your daughter.\u201d\u00a0 Mrs. Harper didn\u2019t look up.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHello, Mama,\u201d Ms. Harper began, as if by rote.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s Lee.\u201d\u00a0 She hardly ever altered her awkward opening line to her Mother.\u00a0 She felt even more awkward with the presence of the staff member.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMrs. Harper,\u201d the staff member continued. \u201cI\u2019m going to have a little chat with your daughter and then I\u2019ll come back a little later to check in on you.\u201d\u00a0 She placed the brush on the dresser and gestured for Ms. Harper to follow her into the hall.\u00a0 Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother still did not look up.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWe didn\u2019t expect to see you today.\u00a0 You usually don\u2019t come in on Saturdays.\u201d\u00a0 The staff member was just being observant.\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t chastising Ms. Harper in any way.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYes, I usually come on Fridays but something happened yesterday during my visit.\u00a0 I just had to come back again to see my Mother again.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cSomething happened today, too.\u201d\u00a0 The staff member was trying to get down to it.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cSomething happened with my Mother?\u00a0 Is that what you were speaking to her about?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper felt uneasy.\u00a0 She had hoped for another moment alone again with her Mother.\u00a0 She wanted to understand better what had happened yesterday.\u00a0 Now something had happened again today with her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOh nothing to be alarmed about,\u201d the staff member said, trying to put Ms. Harper at ease.\u00a0 \u201cShe just got a little agitated was all.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper stared intently at the staff member.\u00a0 Her name-tag said, Julie.\u00a0 She was a young woman but that didn\u2019t mean anything.\u00a0 It took a certain type of person to work with old people.\u00a0 Ms. Harper knew that full well.\u00a0 It also took a certain type of person to work with young people.\u00a0 But this wasn\u2019t about her.\u00a0 Ms. Harper tried to focus on what this Julie was telling her.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYour Mother was in the dining room,\u201d Julie continued, \u201cwhen a family came in with their young granddaughter.\u00a0 It is actually our Mrs. Kennedy\u2019s great-granddaughter.\u00a0 We get all types of family members on weekends.\u00a0 Well, this young girl had a doll.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cA doll?\u201d Ms. Harper interrupted.\u00a0 What was this all about?\u00a0 Why had her Mother become agitated?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYes, an old fashioned sort of doll\u201d, Julie continued.\u00a0 \u201cMrs. Kennedy had given that doll to her daughter and it had been passed down to her granddaughter and then to her great-granddaughter.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWhat does this great-granddaughter have to do with my Mother becoming agitated?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper was getting a little agitated herself.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cIt wasn\u2019t the little girl that had your Mother so upset, it was the doll.\u00a0 As soon as your Mother saw that doll, she wanted to have it.\u00a0 She kept gesturing to the little girl and put her arms out for that doll.\u00a0 I\u2019ve never seen your Mother get so worked up.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOver a doll?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper couldn\u2019t believe it.\u00a0 Her Mother never got \u2018worked up\u2019 as this Julie called it.\u00a0 Until yesterday, her Mother had hardly even spoken in the last year.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t know what it was about that doll but your Mother really wanted it.\u00a0 She even called out to the doll.\u00a0 She kept saying a name over and over again.\u00a0 It frightened the little girl so I had to bring your Mother back to her room.\u00a0 I think she enjoys it when I brush her hair so I started doing that and it calmed her down.\u00a0 I think she\u2019ll be okay now.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cA name?\u00a0 You said my Mother kept saying a name?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper tried to grasp onto something Julie had said.\u00a0 She was sure she knew where this was leading but she had to hear it from this Julie to be sure.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Julie began again.\u00a0 \u201cI didn\u2019t understand her right off but I think it was Miss Annabelle or something like that.\u00a0 There might have been more to it but I was focusing on getting her out of the dining room and back to her room.\u00a0 I\u2019ve never seen your Mother get so worked up.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There it was again, Miss Annabelle.\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 Was she a doll?\u00a0 Ms. Harper only had pieces of the puzzle.\u00a0 What did it all mean?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s alright now,\u201d Julie continued.\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t know what it was all about but your Mother seems fine now.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be back in a little bit to check on her.\u201d\u00a0 Julie turned and walked away.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThank you,\u201d Ms. Harper thought to say.\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t sure what she was thanking this Julie for.\u00a0 She had just added more to the mystery.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ms. Harper entered her Mother\u2019s room again.\u00a0 Her Mother hadn\u2019t moved.\u00a0 She was looking down at her hands which were folded in her lap.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m back, Mama,\u201d Ms. Harper said.\u00a0 She looked at her Mother and then looked around the room.\u00a0 \u00a0She saw the brush on the dresser.\u00a0 She thought to pick up the brush and continue what that Julie had started.\u00a0 It brought back memories of how her Mother would brush her daughter\u2019s hair when she was younger.\u00a0 Recalling that memory was still painful for Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She let go of the thought of brushing her Mother\u2019s hair now.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ms. Harper pulled up another chair and sat in front of her Mother.\u00a0 She thought also of grasping her Mother\u2019s hands but remembered how her Mother had withdrawn them yesterday.\u00a0 How could she connect with her Mother?\u00a0 How could she begin to understand what had been stirred up in her Mother and herself?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMama, I heard about the doll.\u00a0 I heard about Miss Annabelle.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper watched her Mother for a reaction.\u00a0 It came quickly.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMy Miss Annabelle, Lee,\u201d her Mother said without looking up.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, your Miss Annabelle, Mama,\u201d Ms. Harper replied.\u00a0 \u201cWho is your Miss Annabelle?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAll I want for Christmas is my Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u201d\u00a0 Her Mother continued to stare at her hands.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ms. Harper thought again of grasping her Mother\u2019s hands and this time acted upon it.\u00a0 She gently grasped her Mother\u2019s hands and raised them to her own face.\u00a0 Her Mother\u2019s gaze followed her hands and she was looking directly in her daughter\u2019s direction.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s me, Mama.\u00a0 It\u2019s your Lee.\u00a0 You can see me, can\u2019t you Mama?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper wasn\u2019t sure if her Mother was looking at her hands upon her daughter\u2019s face or if she was looking and seeing her daughter behind those hands.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWho\u2019s wonderful?\u00a0 Who\u2019s marvellous?\u201d\u00a0 Her Mother began to hum that little tune again.\u00a0 It was too much for Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She began to softly weep.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWho\u2019s wonderful?\u00a0 Who\u2019s marvellous, Mama?\u00a0 Is it Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 Is she a doll?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper asked through her tears.\u00a0 She was trying to piece it all together.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMy Miss Annabelle, Lee,\u201d her Mother said again.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, Mama, your Miss Annabelle.\u00a0 Who is she?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother withdrew her hands and her gaze once again fell on them resting in her lap.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMama, please,\u201d Ms. Harper said through her sobs.\u00a0 It was no use, her Mother had withdrawn again.\u00a0 Ms. Harper tried several times again to ask about Miss Annabelle but her Mother would not respond.\u00a0 Whatever had passed between them was locked away again inside her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper stood, turned and left.\u00a0 She did not even say goodbye to her Mother.\u00a0 She tried to hide her face from others as she passed through the building and out to her car.\u00a0 She did not want anyone to see how she had been moved to tears.\u00a0 She felt foolish.\u00a0 She also felt very alone.<\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4>The remainder of the day was a blur for Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She barley recalled driving home and being in tears all the way.<\/h4>\n<h4>She turned to her marking as a distraction.\u00a0 The theme papers were no distraction by any means.\u00a0 Every, \u201cAll I want for Christmas is\u201d paper reminded her of her Mother and the mystery of Miss Annabelle.\u00a0 Somehow she managed to get through the papers and the tears subsided along the way.<\/h4>\n<h4>The rest of the day and the weekend were also a vague series of moments.\u00a0 She went through her hours preoccupied and numb.\u00a0 She could not shake it off.\u00a0 She slept.\u00a0 She ate.\u00a0 Still, the memories of Miss Annabelle haunted her; haunted by a wisp of a thing she knew nothing about.<\/h4>\n<h4>The beginning of a new week brought some release.\u00a0 The distraction of school and children helped to push away thoughts of her Mother.\u00a0 She could focus on other things during the day but the nights were the worse.\u00a0 She sat alone or lay awake long.\u00a0 Her dreams were little girls and dolls and her Mother brushing her hair, and her Mother\u2019s arms.\u00a0 Her Mother\u2019s arms had been so warm.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper still worked on the puzzle.\u00a0 She went through old family albums for any clue.\u00a0 There were faces she didn\u2019t recognize.\u00a0 Could one of these be Miss Annabelle?<\/h4>\n<h4>She saw pictures of her young parents.\u00a0 They looked happy.\u00a0 There were even pictures of a young Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She was happy, too.\u00a0 Where had that little girl gone?\u00a0 Where was that sense of happiness?\u00a0 When had she changed?\u00a0 The closeness of family and friends were gone.\u00a0 Now she was alone.\u00a0 Now she was alone with her thoughts and all that she had lost and everything she couldn\u2019t find.<\/h4>\n<h4>Miss Annabelle.\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?<\/h4>\n<h4>Sparked by one of the images in a family album, Ms. Harper eventually reached out to the only other person who might be of some help.\u00a0 It had been a while and certainly she wasn\u2019t sure if any help would be offered.\u00a0 They were not close.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother had only one sibling, a sister.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had not known her well.\u00a0 She lived somewhere out west.\u00a0 She travelled around a great deal.\u00a0 Even her Mother had not seen her in a few years.\u00a0 Not since her Father\u2019s funeral, four years ago, had Ms. Harper even seen her.\u00a0 She had flown in for the funeral and was gone just as quickly.\u00a0 A few words had passed between her Mother and her Aunt and then she had gone.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had reached out to her Aunt when her Mother had gone into the Manor but there had been no response.\u00a0 Now she needed her Aunt\u2019s help; if she had any to offer.<\/h4>\n<h4>The contact information for her Aunt wasn\u2019t much.\u00a0 There was a post office box on the back of a faded postcard.\u00a0 There might have been a phone number once upon a time but she did not find it among her Mother\u2019s things.\u00a0 Perhaps it was another thing locked away in her Mother\u2019s mind.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper wrote a detailed letter.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t the first time.\u00a0 She had written her Aunt when her Mother had fallen and had been hospitalized.\u00a0 She had written again when her Mother had to be moved to Friendship Manor.\u00a0 On both occasions, she had not heard back from her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her letter now to her Aunt had a sense of desperation.\u00a0 Ms. Harper put it all down on paper.\u00a0 She talked about how difficult it had been for her Mother and how she had declined since entering the Manor.\u00a0 There were details of the incident with her Mother and the doll.\u00a0 There was mention of the tune.\u00a0 Mostly, there were questions.\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 Who was marvellous?\u00a0 Who was wonderful?\u00a0 Had there been a doll?\u00a0 Who was Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 She found herself posing that question to her Aunt more than once.\u00a0 Would her Aunt have the answer?\u00a0 Would her Aunt even respond?<\/h4>\n<h4>It was surprising, how little she knew of her Aunt.\u00a0 Her Mother had not spoken much of her over the years.\u00a0 The visits from her Aunt were few and far between and brief as well.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All she really knew was that her Aunt was older than her Mother and seemed to be in good health; certainly better health than her sister.\u00a0 She also travelled a great deal.\u00a0 Her Aunt had always travelled extensively.\u00a0 That was one thing Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother had shared with her daughter.\u00a0 There had been a collection of postcards from exotic locales and some not so exotic.\u00a0 A box of the postcards had been found among her Mother\u2019s things.\u00a0 At some point, the cards, like the visits, had stopped.\u00a0 What had happened between her Mother and her Aunt?\u00a0 More memories and answers locked away from Ms. Harper.<\/h4>\n<h4>The days ran on down to Christmas.\u00a0 It was the same, each time she visited her Mother.\u00a0 There would be few words between them but if Miss Annabelle\u2019s name came from her Mother\u2019s lips it taunted Ms. Harper.\u00a0 Sometimes her Mother would hum snatches of that mystery tune.\u00a0 Other times, her Mother was silent.\u00a0 It was more than Ms. Harper could bear.<\/h4>\n<h4>School came to an end and signalled a beginning of the Christmas break.\u00a0 Ms. Harper\u2019s students had been generous to her this year.\u00a0 There were many Christmas cards with little gift cards for coffee shops and book stores.\u00a0 There were mugs with candies and assorted boxes of chocolates.\u00a0 There was even a scarf and a small bottle of perfume.\u00a0 Ms. Harper wondered each year if the tokens were a sign that she was a good Teacher.<\/h4>\n<h4>There hadn\u2019t been another invitation for coffee from Mr. Clarke.\u00a0 In fact, there had been few pleasantries shared between them since his first offer.\u00a0 The last week before the Christmas vacation had been so busy that the staff had not had time to organize an annual Christmas party.\u00a0 Hastily, in the remaining days before the break, someone organized a luncheon on the day before Christmas and someone else organized the drawing of names for a Secret Santa exchange.\u00a0 They would all gather at a local restaurant and exchange gifts.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper was reluctant to attend the luncheon.\u00a0 It was no secret to the other Teachers that she had been preoccupied with some personal and private issue.\u00a0 She was either the last to leave or the first one out the door at the end of the day.\u00a0 It helped her to avoid interacting socially with the other Teachers.\u00a0 It was that closeness again.\u00a0 It was compounded even further by the time of year and the issue with her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper had found herself seated next to Mr. Clarke at the luncheon.\u00a0 It was awkward but certainly not unwelcoming.\u00a0 The conversation between them was more one sided with him sharing more about himself.\u00a0 Ms. Harper only mentioned her Mother in passing in noting she resided at Friendship Manor and that Ms. Harper visited her regularly.\u00a0 She did not share the mystery of Miss Annabelle.<\/h4>\n<h4>For his part, Mr. Clarke talked about being divorced and having a daughter that lived with his ex-wife.\u00a0 He acknowledged how lonely it was not having a wife and only seeing his daughter on weekends.\u00a0 His daughter would spend half of Christmas day with him.\u00a0 Ms. Harper took it all in and was a good listener and tried to be good company as well.\u00a0 There was no denying she felt an attraction to Mr. Clarke.<\/h4>\n<h4>When the gift exchange came, Ms. Harper found herself the recipient of yet another coffee shop gift card.\u00a0 It was a very generous amount and she felt it probably exceeded the limit they had put on the gifts.\u00a0 For her part, Ms. Harper had purchased a nice bottle of wine for the kindergarten teacher.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper was glad that the decision had been made to have the luncheon on the day before Christmas.\u00a0 It had helped to fill out her day.\u00a0 Christmas Eve would be lonely enough as she spent it by herself.\u00a0 She would drive out to see her Mother the next day and try to put on a brave face.\u00a0 There had been no word from her Aunt.\u00a0 If her Mother really expected Miss Annabelle for Christmas, it would be beyond Ms. Harper to make it happen.\u00a0 She still did not know who or what Miss Annabelle was.<\/h4>\n<h4>There was one last awkward moment after the luncheon when she had to speak to all of the other staff and wish them a Merry Christmas.\u00a0 Mr. Clarke pulled her aside and disclosed that he had been Ms. Harper\u2019s Secret Santa.\u00a0 He had drawn someoneelse\u2019s name but had asked around until he had found who had drawn Ms. Harper\u2019s name.\u00a0 He had switched with one of the grade two teachers.<\/h4>\n<h4>The gesture was not lost on Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She now realized the significance of the generous amount of the coffee shop gift card.\u00a0 Now there would be no excuse for her to say no to his offer of coffee.\u00a0 Mr. Clarke wrote out his telephone number for Ms. Harper and wished her a Merry Christmas and hoped that they could have that coffee sometime over the Christmas vacation.\u00a0 Ms. Harper did not know what to say in response and quietly nodded her head to the thought.\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t saying no at least but it was all she could offer at this time.<\/h4>\n<h4>Christmas Eve held no significance for Ms. Harper.\u00a0 There were no traditions left for her.\u00a0 She had purchased the annual small tree from a lot near her home.\u00a0 The man who ran the lot always saved one for her.\u00a0 It was not very big but when she had decorated it with some few lights and some of the old ornaments, it was all she needed.\u00a0 In previous years she had been sure the sight of the lights dancing on the tree was all she needed.\u00a0 Now, she was not so sure.<\/h4>\n<h4>There were a few presents beneath the tree but these were for her Mother.\u00a0 There was a sweater and some candies.\u00a0 There was even a new hair brush.\u00a0 Seeing that one of the staff took good care of keeping her Mother\u2019s hair brushed, she thought it would be nice for there to be a new brush.\u00a0 The memory of her Mother brushing young Ms. Harper\u2019s hair was still a special memory.\u00a0 There was also a large box of chocolates and a card for the staff at the Manor.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had no traditions for herself but this was one thing she insisted on doing every year.<\/h4>\n<h4>There were no gifts for Ms. Harper.\u00a0 She had spread some of the gifts from her students beneath the tree but there was nothing else there for her.\u00a0 These few things beneath the tree and the twinkling lights should have been enough.\u00a0 Still, Ms. Harper felt an emptiness and a loneliness that she had not felt in other years.<\/h4>\n<h4>It would be an early night with a light dinner, something half-heartedly viewed on the television, and a restless sleep.\u00a0 She hated how she felt but she was not looking forward to Christmas and the brunch at the Manor with her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper was just beginning to think about preparing something for dinner when there was a knock on her door.\u00a0 It startled her.\u00a0 She rarely had visitors and certainly was not expecting anyone this evening.<\/h4>\n<h4>On opening the door, she was taken aback.\u00a0 At first, she thought it was her Mother but this woman was slightly older and smaller in frame.\u00a0 This woman seemed to present the air of a well-seasoned traveller; someone who had seen it all and was prepared to tell you the same.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWell girl, don\u2019t leave me standing out here all night.\u00a0 Don\u2019t you have any Christmas cheer for your own Aunt?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper could not believe it.\u00a0 There had been no word from her Aunt.\u00a0 She had given up any hope of hearing from her and yet, there she stood.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYes, of course, come in,\u201d Ms. Harper stammered.\u00a0 Those were the few words she could think to say.\u00a0 She had a thousand questions but those would wait.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cDidn\u2019t expect to see me, I\u2019ll bet,\u201d her Aunt began.\u00a0 \u201cGot your letter.\u00a0 A friend of mine has been forwarding on my mail.\u00a0 I was in India.\u00a0 Always wanted to go and so I said, this is the year.\u00a0 Wonderful place and terrible at the same time.\u00a0 Don\u2019t\u2019 get me started.\u00a0 Where do I put my things?\u201d\u00a0 She had a suitcase and a long package.\u00a0 These weren\u2019t many things but it looked like she meant to stay for a while.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHere, let me,\u201d Ms. Harper began but was quickly interrupted by her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cNot necessary.\u00a0 I can carry them myself.\u00a0 After all, I\u2019ve travelled the world with suitcase in hand for many years.\u00a0 What\u2019s a few more feet?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper gestured down a small hall and to a spare bedroom.\u00a0 It was a small house.\u00a0 There were just the two bedrooms but it was all Ms. Harper had needed.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHere, take this,\u201d her Aunt gestured with the long package.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s for you anyways or it might as well be.\u00a0 You\u2019ll soon find out.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper\u2019s Aunt deposited her suitcase in the spare bedroom and quickly returned.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHow about a drink?\u201d her Aunt began again.\u00a0 &#8220;I think we\u2019re both going to need one before the night\u2019s out.&#8221;<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper had been at a loss for words but then her Aunt had not given her time or opportunity in which to edge a response.\u00a0 Her Aunt had descended upon her unexpectedly without explanation, looked\u00a0 to staying a while, and now she wanted a drink.\u00a0 Ms. Harper thought on that last one.\u00a0 There probably wasn\u2019t anything in the house.\u00a0 She only drank socially and there was no need to have anything in her home in case weary world travellers happened to stop in on Christmas Eve.\u00a0 That just never happened.\u00a0 Not to her, it didn\u2019t.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYou do have something to drink?\u201d her Aunt continued.\u00a0 &#8220;I didn\u2019t pack anything and there\u2019s probably nothing open at this hour.\u00a0 I\u2019d take a coffee but I was hoping for something a little more cheering.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper remained silent but it quickly came to her.\u00a0 There was something in the house.\u00a0 Stashed beneath the tree was a bottle of wine from one of her students.\u00a0 There was always that one awkward gift from a parent who had forgotten to buy their child\u2019s teacher a gift.\u00a0 Once, she had received a small ham and there was that time she\u2019d received a book of inspirational thoughts with a candy-cane taped to the cover.\u00a0 This year it had been a bottle of wine.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWill this do?\u201d Ms. Harper asked as she arose from beneath the tree and pulled the bottle from a brightly festive gift bag.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat\u2019s the spirit,\u201d her Aunt replied and laughed a little at her own joke.<\/h4>\n<h4>How different her Aunt was from her Mother.\u00a0 Here was this healthy woman, slightly older than her Mother, who would jaunt off to India on a whim or descend upon her niece without a moment\u2019s notice.\u00a0 How was it that this could be her Mother\u2019s sister?\u00a0 They may have looked alike but her Mother and her Aunt were dissimilar in so many other ways.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper removed two glasses from a kitchen cupboard.\u00a0 They were not fancy glasses but they would suffice.\u00a0 She poured herself a small glass of wine but was more generous with her Aunt\u2019s offering.\u00a0 Ms. Harper could tell it would be well approved.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper offered the glass to her Aunt and motioned to an armchair.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI needed this,\u201d her Aunt said, flopping down in the chair.\u00a0 She looked tired.\u00a0 \u201cAm I, tired.\u00a0 You don\u2019t know how much I\u2019ve travelled in the past few days.\u00a0 I received your letter at my hotel, caught a flight out of India the next day, home for a couple of days to take care of some business, grabbed that package out of storage, and then I\u2019m on a flight to here.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWhat,\u201d Ms. Harper began before being interrupted by her Aunt again.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWhat am I doing here?\u201d\u00a0 Her Aunt had asked precisely the question that Ms. Harper would have asked if her Aunt had given her the chance.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYes,\u201d Ms. Harper replied.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI came to be with my only family for Christmas.\u00a0 Here\u2019s to you.\u201d\u00a0 Her Aunt raised her glass high before taking a generous sip.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cBut my Mother\u2019s not here.\u00a0 I wrote to you about that.\u00a0 She\u2019s in Friendship Manor.\u00a0 I thought you said you received my letter?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper was confused.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI did receive it, and read it too,\u201d her Aunt jokingly snapped back.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re my family too girl.\u00a0 I came to spend it with you.\u00a0 I hope to see your Mother as well but first thing\u2019s first.\u00a0 Where\u2019s that package I handed you?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>The package lay on a side table where Ms. Harper had placed it when looking for the wine beneath the tree.\u00a0 It was long and narrow and was wrapped in brown parcel paper.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t very festive if it was to be a Christmas package.\u00a0 Ms. Harper stole a glance at the items beneath her tree.\u00a0 They were better wrapped than this parcel and certainly more in keeping with the season.<\/h4>\n<h4>She grasped the package and held it out to her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cNo, you open it,\u201d her Aunt said, waving off the package in Ms. Harper\u2019s hands.\u00a0 \u201cI said it was for you.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper looked at the package.\u00a0 She suddenly felt guilty.\u00a0 She had nothing for her Aunt.\u00a0 Maybe something re-gifted from beneath the tree might suffice.\u00a0 She would have to re-wrap something or change the card.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cGo ahead girl, get on with it.\u00a0 I haven\u2019t flown all this way and worn myself dog-tired just to sit here and watch you stare at the thing.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper sat down and began to take away the wrapping.\u00a0 The box beneath was not taped and the top of the box was easily removed by pulling upward.\u00a0 Inside, wrapped in old newspapers, was a doll.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper stared at her Aunt.\u00a0 Could it be?\u00a0 Could this be\u2026<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI give you, Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u201d\u00a0 Her Aunt was getting good at interrupting her niece\u2019s thoughts and speech.\u00a0 It seemed there was a streak of impatience in her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d was all Ms. Harper could bring herself to say.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOf course you don\u2019t, girl, I haven\u2019t explained it all yet.\u00a0 There\u2019s more to it than that doll.\u00a0 There\u2019s a whole family history that\u2019s been kept from you; and from your Mother for that matter.\u00a0 Better have your drink ready.\u00a0 Like I said, you may need it.\u201d\u00a0 Her aunt took another long pull at her own drink.\u00a0 It would soon have to be replenished.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper glanced at her own glass.\u00a0 She hadn\u2019t even started on it.\u00a0 Obligingly she started in on her own wine.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t bad for a parent purchased effort.\u00a0 It was warming and Ms. Harper felt it might just help brace her for whatever her Aunt had to offer.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat doll has been the source of trouble in our family,\u201d her Aunt began anew.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019d never know from looking at her she held such secrets that it could divide a whole family.\u00a0 Go ahead, take her out.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper had been balancing the box on her lap.\u00a0 Now, she removed the doll and placed the box gently on the floor.\u00a0 The doll was old.\u00a0 It was mainly plastic and that showed signs of wear.\u00a0 Ms. Harper wasn\u2019t sure what she had expected of Miss Annabelle.\u00a0 She hadn\u2019t much to go on.\u00a0 Her Mother certainly hadn\u2019t provided any description.\u00a0 Ms. Harper hadn\u2019t been completely certain, until this moment, that the Miss Annabelle was a doll.<\/h4>\n<h4>The doll represented a young girl.\u00a0 Her clothes were well maintained and clean.\u00a0 Her dress was green and her hair was auburn.\u00a0 Ms. Harper suddenly felt a kinship to this doll.\u00a0 She remembered a similar dress of her own from her youth and Miss Annabelle\u2019s hair colour was very like her own.\u00a0 She shared that trait with her Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cLook familiar?\u201d her Aunt asked.\u00a0 \u201cIt should.\u00a0 That\u2019s your Mother.\u00a0 It could be you, too.\u00a0 You look just like your Mother.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper could see it now.\u00a0 Was that the secret of Miss Annabelle?\u00a0 Had she been fashioned to look like her Mother?\u00a0 Who had given this doll to her Mother?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cPretty little thing, isn\u2019t she?\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper finally found some words.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat she is,\u201d her Aunt replied.\u00a0 \u201cIt says \u2018Mama\u2019 when you tilt her a certain way.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper looked hard at the doll.\u00a0 She held her over backwards and sure enough the doll said \u2018Mama\u2019.\u00a0 The doll looked like her and it looked like her Mother and it said \u2018Mama\u2019.\u00a0 Was this why she called her Mother, Mama?\u00a0 There were more questions than answers.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYou\u2019re Mother loved that doll.\u00a0 It near broke her heart when that doll went missing.\u00a0 Your Mother always blamed me for that.\u00a0 She never would believe that I had nothing to do with her disappearance.\u00a0 It\u2019s one of the reasons why we haven\u2019t been close all these years.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOne of the reasons?\u201d Ms. Harper found herself asking aloud.\u00a0 What secrets was her Aunt holding back?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cGood for you, girl.\u00a0 You picked up on that did you?\u00a0 Well, you might as well know the rest.\u201d\u00a0 Her Aunt took another drink of her wine as if to steel herself for what she had to say.\u00a0 The contents of the glass were almost gone but she didn\u2019t prod Ms. Harper for a refill.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI never took away Miss Annabelle, Lee,\u201d her Aunt continued.\u00a0 \u201cIt had something to do with my Father.\u00a0 He never liked that doll.\u00a0 It was probably because he resented the person who had given that doll to your Mother.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWho?\u201d Ms. Harper asked.\u00a0 She found herself leaning forward in her chair.\u00a0 What was this all about?<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Aunt drained her glass and stared long at Ms. Harper.\u00a0 For once, her Aunt seemed to be at a loss for words.<\/h4>\n<h4>To fill the awkward silence, Ms. Harper rose and poured more wine into her Aunt\u2019s glass.\u00a0 While pouring the wine, she had leaned in and placed a hand gently on her Aunt\u2019s arm.\u00a0 It was something she had offered enough times over the years to console a child at school.\u00a0 The gesture was not lost on her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThank you, girl.\u00a0 I like to think I\u2019m a tough old bird but I\u2019m finding this a little hard.\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper noticed that there was a mistiness to her Aunt\u2019s eyes.\u00a0 It was clear she was trying to hold back her emotions.\u00a0 Tough old bird or not, it was clear this was difficult for her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Aunt started in on the newly refilled glass of wine before letting out with a gentle sigh and beginning again with her story.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat doll was given to your Mother by her Father.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cBut I thought you said he hated that doll?\u201d Ms. Harper asked with a note of confusion.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cNo, I said my Father hated that doll.\u00a0 My Father was not my sister\u2019s father.\u00a0 There it is.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper didn\u2019t understand.\u00a0 What did this mean?\u00a0 How could her Mother and her Aunt not have the same Father?<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYour Mother\u2019s not adopted, if that\u2019s what you\u2019re thinking,\u201d her Aunt continued.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t what Ms. Harper had been thinking but it would have explained a great deal.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cBut,\u201d Ms. Harper began to say before being interrupted once again by her Aunt.\u00a0 She was taking no offence.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cListen,\u201d her Aunt continued on, \u201clet me get this all out.\u00a0 There will be time enough for questions when I\u2019m done.\u00a0 I only found out the whole story myself after my Father had died.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Aunt stopped to take another long drink of the wine before continuing.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYou have to understand it was a different time.\u00a0 I was only two when World War 2 broke out and my Father was called up.\u00a0 My parents had been my whole world up until then.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t have any siblings and my parents probably spoiled me, truth be told.\u00a0 I think they were happy but then I was young.\u00a0 I only know what came after.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWell, the War came along and off my Father went.\u00a0 He was off at some training camp before shipping out but he came home a couple of times before being posted overseas.\u00a0 My Mother was alone with a small child and you can probably guess what happened next.\u00a0 She met another man and they became involved.\u00a0 It\u2019s probably not a unique story.\u00a0 I learned later that it happened more than you think.\u00a0 Anyways, my Mother became pregnant with your Mother.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper was hanging on every word that her Aunt said.\u00a0 This last part was a little too much for her.\u00a0 She leaned back in her chair and quickly set into her own glass of wine.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cSteady now girl, there\u2019s more to it,\u201d her Aunt said upon noticing the reaction from her niece.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWell, this other man got his call and he too soon shipped out.\u00a0 There was my Mother alone with me and pregnant with another man\u2019s child.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t know what to do but she packed me up and off we went to my grandparents.\u00a0 It was what you did back then if you wanted to keep your secrets from your neighbours.\u00a0 Eventually she wrote to my Father and this other man and told them she was going to have a baby.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t hear back from my Father until he was injured in battle and was shipped home.\u00a0 Carried shrapnel in his leg for the rest of his life and walked with a cane.\u00a0 But that\u2019s not important\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWhen my father came home, he didn\u2019t come to see my Mother right away.\u00a0 I think he must have taken his time to think on what he was going to do.\u00a0 I don\u2019t think he really thought there was much he could do.\u00a0 People stayed together back then.\u00a0 Divorce wasn\u2019t as commonplace as it is today.\u00a0 I also think he felt he had some obligation to me.\u00a0 After all, I was his child.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat other fellow never wrote my Mother at all.\u00a0 Probably thought he\u2019d had his fun and didn\u2019t want to have to be saddled with any obligations after he got home from the war.\u00a0 After a while, my Mother believed he might just have been killed in the war.\u00a0 It was probably an easier thing to think than to believe he\u2019d just used her.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cEventually my Father met with my Mother.\u00a0 He said he\u2019d stay with her but she could never have any contact with that other man.\u00a0 He agreed to even raise the new child as his own.\u00a0 By this time, your Mother was almost a year old.\u00a0 Like I said, it was a different time and a different world back then.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t easy but somehow they made it work.\u00a0 It hardened him, though.\u00a0 Some thought it was the war but those who knew the secret knew better.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know myself.\u00a0 All I knew was that I had a new baby sister and my Father was home.\u00a0 But it was never the same after that.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper\u2019s Aunt stared off as if trying to peer back through the years.\u00a0 Ms. Harper was not surprised to see that her Aunt had shed some tears while reciting her narrative.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI\u2019ll get to the part about the doll,\u201d her Aunt began again, \u201cbut let me tell you what it was like growing up with your Mother.\u00a0 I loved your Mother.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know she was only my half-sister and we had some good times.\u00a0 But there was always something hanging over us that I couldn\u2019t explain.\u00a0 It started with my Father.\u00a0 He wasn\u2019t as fun loving with me as he was before the war.\u00a0 He tried and I think he even tried harder with your Mother because he didn\u2019t want to hold anything against her.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t her fault.\u00a0 Still, he wasn\u2019t the same.\u00a0 He was distant somehow.\u00a0 It was if he couldn\u2019t handle closeness anymore.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper couldn\u2019t believe it.\u00a0 It was the same way with her.\u00a0 She was good with distance.\u00a0 It was the closeness that made her uncomfortable.\u00a0 But it couldn\u2019t be an inherited trait.\u00a0 Her Aunt had just finished telling her that her grandfather wasn\u2019t really her grandfather; not by blood at least.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cIt was the same with my Mother after a time.\u201d\u00a0 Her Aunt just kept on pushing through.\u00a0 She had not noticed how Ms. Harper had taken the last part of the story to heart.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMy Mother was very close with your Mother and me but it didn\u2019t show with my Father.\u00a0 They were a couple but we never saw much affection between them.\u00a0 I\u2019m the same way.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t bear it after a while and I had to get out.\u00a0 I took the first job that came along.\u00a0 I moved around a lot and kept on travelling.\u00a0 A different country or a different man was my answer.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t handle the closeness either.\u00a0 It was the way I was brought up.\u00a0 I saw that in your Mother, too.\u00a0 I think she chose your Father because he wasn\u2019t a man quick with his emotions.\u00a0 I\u2019m not speaking ill of your Father at all.\u00a0 He was your Mother\u2019s choice.\u00a0 You get brought up a certain way and you continue on the same way.\u00a0 I think it\u2019s probably the same way with you.\u00a0 I see it.\u00a0 There was something in your letter that I sensed right off.\u00a0 I thought maybe it was time someone set you straight on the way things have been and how they might continue on if things don\u2019t change.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Aunt cut Ms. Harper to the core.\u00a0 It was true.\u00a0 She was more product of all that family history than anything else.\u00a0 Her Father had not been easy to be close to when he was alive.\u00a0 Now, she was the same way.\u00a0 A history of family members better with distance than closeness had come all down to her.\u00a0 Her Aunt, however, had chosen a different path.\u00a0 Yes, she had not been close to anyone but she had lived and loved and travelled and her life was hers to answer to.\u00a0 At that moment, her head spun with this new family history and the revelations.\u00a0 She thought of her own relationships.\u00a0 There hadn\u2019t been many and her relationship with her Mother was now a ghost of something she was trying to hold onto.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cI\u2019m sorry to lay that all on you, girl but there\u2019s no cushioning the truth.\u201d\u00a0 It was true.\u00a0 Her Aunt wasn\u2019t trying to hurt her but it was painful to hear nonetheless.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWhat about the doll?\u201d was all Ms. Harper could think to ask.\u00a0 It was more the truth of things than the wine that was making her lightheaded.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOh yes, Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u00a0 Well, it seemed your Mother\u2019s real Father had not died during the war.\u00a0 He returned home and married someone else.\u00a0 My Mother never did find out who it was.\u00a0 She said she didn\u2019t want to know.\u00a0 She had made a promise to her husband she was determined to keep.\u00a0 Still, one Christmas that doll showed up for your Mother.\u00a0 My Mother knew who it was from but she never told my Father.\u00a0 There had been a note but my Mother put it where she thought no one would ever find it.\u00a0 She was wrong.\u00a0 A few years later, my Father found the note and my Mother told him the truth.\u00a0 It was after that when the doll went missing.\u00a0 My Mother told me about it later in life.\u00a0 She knew how upset my Father had been about the doll being from your Mother\u2019s real Father so she hid it away.\u00a0 Your Mother blamed me for it.\u00a0 I thought it had been my Father.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cWho named the doll?\u201d Ms. Harper asked.\u00a0 \u201cWas it given to her by my Mother\u2019s real Father?\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cNo, that came from your Mother.\u00a0 There used to be this song that our Mother used to love singing to us.\u201d\u00a0 Her Aunt stopped and began to hum the tune that Ms. Harper\u2019s Mother had mysteriously hummed that first day she mentioned Miss Annabelle.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cA song?\u201d Ms. Harper asked.\u00a0 She was sure she knew part of the answer.<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Aunt began to recite the words to the song.\u00a0 \u201cWho\u2019s wonderful?\u00a0 Who\u2019s marvellous?\u00a0 Miss Annabelle, Lee.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cThat\u2019s what my Mother was trying to tell me!\u201d\u00a0 Ms. Harper exclaimed.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYes, your Mother loved that song and she loved that doll.\u00a0 She even named you after the doll.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper stared incredulously at her Aunt.\u00a0 Her Aunt was mistaken.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re mistaken, I\u2019m named after my Father\u2019s favourite author, Harper Lee, who wrote \u2018To Kill A Mockingbird.\u2019\u00a0 It\u2019s backwards, I know, with my first name being Lee and my last name being Harper but that\u2019s the what my Father wanted to name me.\u00a0 My Mother never called me Annabelle.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cOh, this was in the beginning, when you were born.\u00a0 She wanted to call you Annabelle Lee after her doll and that song.\u00a0 Your Father didn\u2019t like it much so they kept the \u2018Lee\u2019 and the \u2018Annabelle\u2019 part was lost to you until now.<\/h4>\n<h4>Now it all dawned on Ms. Harper.\u00a0 Her Mother and her Aunt had been saying \u2018Miss Annabelle Lee\u2019 all this time.\u00a0 She had thought they had just been saying \u2018Miss Annabelle\u2019 and then addressing her by her first name, \u2018Lee.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Her aunt saw the truth dawning across her niece\u2019s face.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cAfter my Father had died, my Mother told me all about her wartime affair and the doll.\u00a0 She said she had hidden away the doll but she couldn\u2019t bring herself to tell your Mother the truth about the doll or her real Father.\u00a0 She said she never heard from your Mother\u2019s Father again after receiving the doll.\u00a0 I found Miss Annabelle Lee among my Mother\u2019s things when I settled her estate.\u00a0 I thought I should have returned it to your Mother but that would have raised all kinds of questions I wasn\u2019t prepared to answer at the time.\u00a0 I guess it doesn\u2019t matter now.\u00a0 You do what you wish with her.\u00a0 That\u2019s it.\u00a0 Now you know everything and I feel like I\u2019ve been on another round the world trip.\u201d\u00a0 She leaned back in her chair and started in on her wine again.<\/h4>\n<h4>After that there wasn\u2019t much to say between them.\u00a0 The truth of everything had been laid bare.\u00a0 Ms. Harper had no questions for her Aunt.\u00a0 She felt she knew all there was to know and that was enough.\u00a0 In one evening she\u2019d found the truth about her family and found an extended family in her Aunt who had stopped her travelling long enough to bring truth, enlightenment, and hope to Annabelle Lee Harper.<\/h4>\n<h4>After a light dinner, and a little more wine, her Aunt retired early.\u00a0 Ms. Harper re-wrapped some chocolates from beneath her tree and switched the name on the sweater that she had intended to give her Mother.\u00a0 The candies and the hairbrush and the Miss Annabelle Lee doll would be more than enough for her Mother this Christmas.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Annabelle Lee Harper lay awake that night and thought long on all she had been told by her Aunt.\u00a0 A family history of awkwardness with being close to someone brought on by a family secret.\u00a0 Could she really break away from that?\u00a0 She thought about Mr. Clarke, John.\u00a0 She would call him up tomorrow and wish him a Merry Christmas.\u00a0 That would be a start.<\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4><\/h4>\n<h4>In the morning Ms. Annabelle Lee Harper and her Aunt drove out to Friendship Manor to have brunch with her Mother.\u00a0 She was very nervous about seeing her Mother.\u00a0 How would she react to seeing Miss Annabelle Lee?\u00a0 How would she react to seeing her sister?<\/h4>\n<h4>They found her Mother in her room.\u00a0 The staff had not yet come to collect her for the Christmas brunch.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Harper held back nervously in the doorway.\u00a0 She felt a gentle push from her Aunt.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cYou go in, girl.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be in after a bit.\u00a0 This is your moment.\u00a0 Go ahead.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Before entering, Ms. Annabelle Lee Harper removed the doll from the box and held it out so her Mother would see it right away.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cHello Mama, it\u2019s me, Lee.\u00a0 Merry Christmas Mama.\u00a0 I\u2019ve brought something for you.\u00a0 Look who it is.\u00a0 It\u2019s Miss Annabelle Lee.\u201d<\/h4>\n<h4>Her Mother looked up in surprise and instinctively put out her arms.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Annabelle Lee Harper offered her Mother the doll but her Mother brushed away the doll and grabbed her daughter\u2019s arm and pulled her in close to her.<\/h4>\n<h4>\u201cMy Miss Annabelle Lee,\u201d she said, pulling her daughter closer.<\/h4>\n<h4>Ms. Annabelle Lee Harper understood.\u00a0 It hadn\u2019t been about the doll.\u00a0 It was about her.\u00a0 All her Mother wanted for Christmas was her own Miss Annabelle Lee; Miss Annabelle Lee Harper.\u00a0 Her Aunt had helped her to realize that.\u00a0 She had changed so much since she was a little girl but after last night she understood all those years of distance had made her almost unrecognizable to even her own Mother.<\/h4>\n<h4>Would her Mother continue to know her or was this recognition fleeting?\u00a0 Ms. Annabelle Lee Harper did not know.\u00a0 All she knew at this moment was her Mother\u2019s arms and her Mother\u2019s arms were so warm.<\/h4>\n<div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, it&#8217;s New Year&#8217;s Day 2017.\u00a0 Where did the last six months go?\u00a0 I write a blahg about Superman in the middle of June in 2016 and then it&#8217;s more than half a year before I get to a new one.\u00a0 In that last blahg, I included a poem called &#8220;if you&#8217;d be a [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/923"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=923"}],"version-history":[{"count":40,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/923\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6530,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/923\/revisions\/6530"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=923"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=923"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=923"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}