Postcards from Abby Page 5

  Her long journey is almost over and she feels exhausted, both physically and mentally. Tia finds that she is struggling to stay alert as dozens of the same black bags rotate past her, trying to figure out which one of them belongs to her. After some time, Tia finds her luggage, grateful that, unlike so many times before, the airline did not misplace her suitcase from the connecting flight.

  She walks out through the automatic double doors to feel a blast of cool air shoot right into her face. Although it is the middle of summer, Santiago de Compostela is nestled in the mountains of Galicia, and the wind, no matter what season, carries a punch to it.

  Tia waves her hand at a white cab, which stops immediately unlike New York where she has to battle waves of people and often waits a good fifteen minutes before she gets one to stop for her. She gets in and speaks to the cab driver in Spanish, instructing him to take her to the Rioja Inn in Muros.

  She is self conscious about the way she speaks. With the death of both of her parents, it has been eight years since Tia has had a reason to speak in what used to be her native language. She notices her accent and how the words which once flowed so fluidly out of her mouth now hang there until they are pushed out with a shove from her tongue.

  Tia sighs with a feeling of loss and regret. Realizing how flawed her Spanish has become makes her miss her parents so much. It feels as if she buried them only yesterday. The regret hits her when she thinks back to all of the fights she had with her mom about the importance of Tia’s own children, her grandchildren, growing up bilingual. She can’t help but feel as if she has lost something, failed her parents somehow by not passing down the family’s cultural identity to the next generation. In Americanizing her own children, Tia questions whether or not she has taken away the memory of her parents? Has she disappointed them?

  Tia rests her head on the backseat. From what she can remember, it is a 45-minute drive to Muros. She looks out the window of the car, taking in the familiar sights that have lay dormant in the back of her mind for too long. Although Tia promised herself she wouldn’t, a few tears manage to make their way down her face. It has been too long. Tia knows she has stayed away far too long. She wonders what happened during her marriage to Michael that drove her so far from who she was growing up, so far away from her roots, so far away from who she thought she would be?

  Tia and Michael

  Things came rather fast after we were married. The first year was a constant flurry of school, late night studying and part-time jobs working to make ends meet. Michael and I both knew what direction we wanted to go with our careers and we were on the same page as to what we wanted out of life. So despite our crazy schedules, we didn’t fight at all about anything, not even about the silly things you hear newlyweds fight about such as leaving the cap off the toothpaste or forgetting to put the toilet seat down. We were supportive of each other and knew that this non-stop life of ours was part of the uphill road to get to where we wanted to go. I think that was a big part of the reason we loved each other so much.

  And then everything changed with one single moment. I can still remember the day I found out I was pregnant. It was a little over a year after we were married and I had spent the better part of the week not feeling well. I didn’t think anything of it, as I was usually tired because of my hectic schedule of work and school. When my period didn’t come like clockwork, I knew something was not right. I had never been late before yet I think I was in denial because I worried about all of the things that could be wrong with me, such as ovarian cysts, cancer, stress, but it never crossed my mind that I could be pregnant. Michael and I were very careful and used protection at all times. We had a timetable in our heads and children were several years away. Surprisingly, it was Abby who pointed out the obvious. In one of the rare phone calls Abby made to me, the topic of how tired I was came up during an otherwise normal chitchat.

  Abby: “So how are you holding up, juggling the job and school?”

  Tia: “OK, I guess, just tired all the time.”

  Abby: “Well with the schedule you have going it’s no wonder.”

  Tia: “Yeah, I guess, but it’s more than that. I think I may be coming down with something because I can’t seem to drag myself out of bed.”

  Abby: “Tia, you don’t think you could be pregnant?”

  Abby was always one to blurt things out, not afraid of hurting feelings or not being politically correct.

  Tia: “No, I’m just overworked, that’s all.”

  Abby: “So you’re not late?”

  Tia: “A few days, maybe, but still, no way.”

  I began to count the days in my head and I was more than a week late. The panic started to rise in my chest.

  Abby: “Late, huh? You should take the test.”

  Tia: “Don’t be silly. I’m not, I can’t be.”

  Abby: “Take the test, Tia, just in case.”

  Sure enough, the “just in case” turned into definitely and before I knew it, my legs were up on stirrups as the doctor gave me the first glimpse of my babies. If the first shock was that I was pregnant, the second shock was that I was carrying twins. Michael was beyond thrilled and I was in disbelief. Yet, Michael always had a way of making me believe everything would turn out fine, that we would be fine. His positive outlook was infectious and he drew me into the excitement.

  Michael: Twins! Can you believe it? I always knew my sperm could swim but baby, I didn’t know they were Olympic caliber swimmers.”

  Abby: Michael, be serious. I’m freaking out here. How are we going to do this? I’m in school. You’re in school. We can barely get by with just the two of us. How are we going to get by multiplied by two?”

  Michael: ”We will find a way.”

  Tia: “How?”

  Michael: “We just will. I will figure this out. We can make this work. Do you trust me?”

  Tia: “It’s not a matter of trust, Michael. It’s a matter of numbers. We have a tiny apartment, no room for cribs and…”

  He grabbed my hands and squeezed them in between his own hands. He stopped joking and looked at me very serious.

  Michael: “Do you trust me?”

  There was nothing else I could say.

  Tia: “Yes, of course, I trust you.”

  Michael: “Then smile because we are going to be parents.”

  As my belly grew bigger and I started to feel my babies kick inside of me, I didn’t need convincing anymore-I was excited. As Michael promised, he did everything he could to make extra money and save. He put in more hours at the firm and worked weekends as a waiter at a local restaurant. When he wasn’t working, Michael and I would spend quiet weekends at home, reading parenting books and playing classical music for the babies. We would also talk about the future and it didn’t alter any of our plans. I would still go forward with my medical degree and Michael would continue with his plans to practice law. If at any point I believed it was wishful thinking, I chose to ignore it. The fantasy was much better than reality. Everything we did together during that time was blissful. We both wanted to know the sexes of the babies ahead of time and we did-a boy and a girl. Trying to come up with names was a challenge and Michael was playful and teasing as usual.

  Michael: “Here’s what I’m thinking-Harold and Harriet Gables.”

  Tia: “You are not being serious?”

  Michael: “Oh but I am. We can call our daughter “Harry” and our son “Harry.”

  Tia: “I am not even listening to you!”

  Michael: “Dirty Harry as a nickname.”

  I gave him a punch on his arm and waved him off, as his eyes smiled with mischief. After a brief moment of silence, I told Michael my name choices.

  Tia: “I was thinking Javier Ryan and Jaime Abigail. What do you think?”

  Michael: “JJ?”

  I nodded and smiled, hoping he would like it.

  Tia: “Javier after my dad and Ryan after yours. Jaime after your mom.”

  Michael: “and I don’t need to ask
where the Abigail comes from.”

  Tia: “She is my best friend. I can’t think of a better person to name our daughter after.”

  Michael: “I just hope she doesn’t inherit your friend’s wild streak or else I will have to buy a shotgun to drive away all of the boys.”

  Tia: “I hope my daughter is strong-willed and independent like Abby.”

  Michael: “Forget the shotgun, I might need a deadbolt so she never leaves the house.”

  A few months after that conversation, my water broke while taking an exam in my chemistry class. Michael rushed from the law firm to drive me to the hospital. Twenty-four hours of intense labor and one emergency c-section later, the twins came out screaming their heads off. They were bloody, they were swollen and they were perfect. With Michael holding my beautiful son in his arms and with my daughter on my chest, I remembered thinking that life can’t get any better than this.

  Michael leaned over to me so that I could get a closer look at my son and he whispered, “Now, you have to admit, they do look a little like a Harold and Harriet, don’t you think?”

  Tia: “Michael, don’t joke with a woman who has just been to hell.”

  Michael: “OK, you win. Javier Ryan, meet your mommy.”

  Tia: “Jaime Abigail, meet your dad.”

  Michael kissed me gently on the lips.

  Michael: “I love you so much, Mrs. Gables. You are amazing.”

  And looking into his eyes, glistening with tears, I felt it. He meant it.

  The days following the birth were a blur of sleepless nights, bottle feedings and diaper changes. Shortly after bringing the twins home to the apartment, Michael and I moved into our first home. Making good on my parent’s promise to give us the money for the down payment, we bought a small yet charming two-bedroom cape in Ardsley, New York. And all at once, we transformed from the urban hip “New York City never sleeps” apartment dwellers into the mini-van driving, suburban living, in bed by nine, family from Westchester County.

  With Jaime and Javier taking all of our energy and most of our time, Michael and I both agreed that I couldn’t continue with my pre-med program. One of us needed to be there for the twins and with Michael almost done with law school, we decided that I would pursue a Masters Degree in Education and eventually take a job as a science teacher in the public school system once the twins were bigger. I would be home by three every day and have my summers off. It made so much sense at the time. We certainly needed the money and Michael’s potential to earn a very good salary quickly was more realistic than me spending years in medical school, racking up student loans to eventually graduate and earn a modest living as a doctor a decade later. At the time, I convinced myself that I would go back and pick up where I left off in my pre-med program after the kids were old enough to go to school and Michael got settled in at a law firm. So it was just a matter of biding my time.

  Besides, I was so in love with my children that nothing seemed to matter to me, not even Abby’s postcards, which came more frequently after the twins were born. A few months later, Abby came to stay with us for a week to be godmother to Javier and Jaime at their christening. Along with her suitcase, she brought stories of her travels and the odd jobs that supported her along the way.

  She left her job, as a photographer’s assistant and decided to move to Greece and enroll in culinary school. Her next dream was to open a beachfront bistro on the island of Mikonos. Holding Jaime in her arms as she sat in our living room sofa after we returned home from the christening, Abby smiled at me:

  Abby: “I know it’s not possible but I swear this child looks like me.”

  Tia: “Wishful thinking, godmother.”

  Abby: “But he has my eyes.”

  Tia “Well, he certainly takes after you in personality. He doesn’t sleep. It’s like he’s afraid he’ll miss something if he does. He has me up all night, rocking him back and forth.”

  Abby: “That’s my boy.”

  Javier giggles as if on cue and we both laugh at the coincidence. Then, the conversation turns to the topic I know Abby has been waiting all week to talk to me about and the one I want to avoid.

  Abby: “So you want to be a teacher?”

  I knew where this conversation was going because I knew Abby so well. So I kept my answers short, hoping she would get the hint. I didn’t need another lecture. I had heard it before from my parents when I told them the news. Once was enough for me.

  Tia: “Yes.”

  Abby: “So no more dreams of being a doctor, then?”

  Tia: “That’s not true. It’s just on hold for now.”

  Abby wasn’t convinced or it might have been the gnawing feeling inside of my own heart-that sinking feeling that a person gets when she doesn’t even believe what she is saying.

  Abby: “Uh huh, sure. Just like your promise to travel with me.”

  Tia: “That’s not fair. I plan to do that too but all in good time.”

  Abby: “I know this is all exciting as it should be but just do me a favor and don’t lose sight of the prize.”

  I shook off what Abby was telling me. I felt cornered by her questions and upset that she might be looking down on my decision to be a stay at home mom.

  Tia: “That little boy in your arms is my prize and right now, all I want to be is his mother.”

  Abby looked in my eyes and must have seen what I felt, that being the mother to these two beautiful children was the only thing that really mattered and she smiled.

  Abby: “Well, that’s one promise I know you will keep.”

  Abby left the next day to Greece and a month later, she sent a postcard of two young children on the beach building a sandcastle together. The children on the postcard were dark skinned with exotic features, so unlike my Jaime and Javier, but I knew what she was trying to say. On the back of the card, four simple words, that meant the world to me.

  “Enjoy the moments, Mama.”

  With that postcard, any resentment I felt towards Abby melted away and our relationship resumed uninterrupted with the constant stream of postcards occupying my mailbox along with coupons for formula and diapers. Abby was a few weeks into her culinary program and was sending me all sorts of recipes that she had just learned to cook.

  Tia,

  I thought you might like to try this dish I just learned in class. Please make sure to follow the directions exactly to the letter and most importantly, once it’s cooked, share it with someone special. This is just too good to eat alone.

  Abby

  Each night, Michael came home to find me whipping up some exotic dish for him to eat. With post-partum in full gear, Michael tried everything I made whether he liked it or not to avoid the waterworks that would come pouring out of me if he didn’t. Weeks turned into months and Jaime and Javier were growing so fast, learning to crawl, then walk and eventually talk.

  Just as we had planned, Michael graduated from law school top in his class and passed the bar that fall. He accepted a job as a law associate in one of the biggest law firms in NYC, specializing in litigation. The job came with a big salary so we stopped having to worry about money. However, Michael began working the long hours expected of first year attorneys including weekends and holidays. I finished my Masters Degree in Education the following year and got a full-time job teaching biology at the local high school. Determined to make this work, I focused really hard on balancing being a wife, a mom and a teacher.

  Michael and I still managed to find time to spend together, whether it was the ‘once a week’ ritual of washing and folding laundry in our basement after we put the kids to sleep or our ‘once a month’ date night of dinner and a movie. It was important for us to connect and so, on Thursday nights, we would talk and laugh and share our week as we separated, rinsed and dried our clothes.

  Although Abby always invited, there was never enough time to go and visit her. That and the fact that taking two young children on a plane for a nine-hour trip was not exactly my idea of a good time; but in
her own way, she never forgot me or the children.

  On every birthday, without fail, Abby would send Javier and Jaime a gift from wherever she was at the time. I can remember on their eighth birthday, she had sent via special delivery from Sydney, Australia, two huge koala bears wrapped with a red bow around their necks. The card read:

  To My Godchildren,

  Good day from Sydney, Australia! While walking along the city, I came across these two lonely Australians in need of a good home. Their names are Mike and Maddy and they have never been to America and tell me they would love to see the sights in New York City. I told them that I knew the right people for the job. Are you up for the task of serving as tour guides to Mike and Maddy? If so, I want to see lots of pictures of their great adventure in the Big Apple.

  Love, your Fairy Godmother,

  Abby

  Just as she asked, Javier and Jaime took the charge of sightseeing very seriously. For the next two weeks, I shuttled two kids and two large koala bears around New York City. At every stop, I would take out the camera and take a picture of the kids and the bears next to a famous New York City landmark. We developed the pictures and sent them to Abby with a letter from the kids detailing their trip and the sightseeing they did.

  At first, I was not thrilled with what Abby had done. Dragging two young children on a subway ride to Manhattan and walking for endless hours to overcrowded tourist spots was not on the top of my list of priorities. But when we actually arrived to the heart of the city, I found a new joy in rediscovering my hometown in a way I never had before. I saw the city through the eyes of my children. Their wonderment and sense of adventure rubbed off on me. It was contagious and from then on, we planned regular trips into Manhattan to see Broadway shows, visit the museums or simply share an ice cream cone as we sat on a bench in Central Park.