The Life She Was Given

by Ellen Marie Wiseman

Trying to figure out the woman who had brought her into this world at an age when most mothers were watching their children get married or sending them off to college wouldn’t change anything. Mother was who she was, and now she was gone.

Life was too big and too short and too important to talk about the lack of rain or the latest gossip. She wanted to know how people felt about themselves and one another, whether they were happy or sad. She wanted to know what made them feel loved and what hurt them to the core. She wanted to know about their past, how they got where they were, and their relationships with their mothers and fathers and siblings. She wanted to know if she was the only mixed-up person in the world who felt completely and utterly alone.

So this is what it felt like to be hugged by another person. And maybe, just maybe, this was what it felt like to be loved.

For some reason, she wanted to be with the animals more than the people. She couldn’t describe how she felt about the animals or why she had such a strong need to see them, because she didn’t understand it herself. But it was one of the reasons she was brave enough to venture out for the first time on her own. Maybe she was drawn to them because they understood what it was like to be locked up, with no control over what happened next. Maybe it was because her cat was the only one who had never let her down.

More than anything, she wanted to go into the stall and comfort the elephant, to stroke its head and explain she understood what it felt like to be held prisoner, and to still love someone who hurt you.

“You were my father,” she said. “You were supposed to protect me.”