I was devastated that the answers to all my questions had been so near yet so far. „
Johnson continued, “I stayed close because I loved Leo, but also because I felt guilty. I thought helping you was the only way I could make up for my silence.”
“What gave either of you the right to decide what I could handle?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I had no right.”
Leo finally spoke.
“So she left just after I was born? Did she even know my name?”
“ The question silenced us. „
“Yes,” I said. “She chose it with me.”
“Did she ever hold me?”
I remembered Goldi standing over his bassinet in the darkness.
“Yes. When you were born, she did hold you.”
“So she didn’t leave because I have Down syndrome?”
“No. I thought so, too, but no.” „
My voice broke.
“She was right. I would have spent all my time trying to save her and would not have known how to balance it all with taking care of you.”
His eyes filled.
“Would you have wanted her to stay?”
“I think we both would have.”
“ “Then why didn’t she let you choose?” „
I had no answer.
Leo stood and walked away from the table.
I followed him into the hallway.
“I thought my mother abandoned me and you just didn’t want me to know,” he said.
“I didn’t want you to think you weren’t loved. I love you, Leo.”
“But you also thought that she left because of me?” „
“Yes, and I hated her for 18 years.”
He wiped his face angrily.
“I feel happy that she loved me. Is that bad?”
“No.”
“I also feel angry.”
“ “So do I.” „
We stood there crying together, relieved by the truth and wounded by it at the same time.
Then Leo asked, “What did she look like?”
That question broke something inside me.
In 18 years, I had not told him anything about his mother.
I had told myself I was protecting him.
“ The realization made me feel sick. „
Goldi had decided I could not handle losing her.
I had decided Leo could not handle knowing her.
The same kind of silence had passed from one parent to another.
“Come with me,” I said.
I led him to the garage.
At the back of a cabinet was a sealed plastic box I had not opened since we moved out of our old apartment.
I had found it too painful to look at what was inside it. „
Inside were Goldi’s photographs, university notebooks, a green scarf she wore every winter, and a silver bracelet I had given her on our first anniversary.
Leo sat beside me on the floor.
I showed him a picture of Goldi laughing at the beach.
“She hated sand,” I said. “She complained all day, then refused to leave because the sunset was beautiful.”
He smiled.
I showed him our wedding photograph. „
“Was she funny?”
“Very.”
“Did she sing?”
“Terribly.”
“Do I look like her?”
