Revision

I couldn't remember her name. I looked at her, the stranger she was. Her eyes pierced right through me. She held her head up high, never once losing her gaze that was fixated on my face. I couldn't help but stare right back at her. We passed each other in a second or two, heading into the opposite directions we were destined for. I was instantly so puzzled that I had already slowed down my step before we even moved beyond each other. In my sense of disturbance, I turned around to catch another look at her. Subconsciously hoping she would do the same. She never did. She kept on in a perfect stride as if she was on a mission. Places to be, people to meet. Me, on the other hand, stumbled into a slow halt. Directing my feet to the nearest bench I could find. My body slumped down on it. Who was she and why couldn't I remember her name? Why would she stare me down as if she was hung up on revenge? She was beautiful, but I dated many beautiful women. She just didn't ring a bell in my memory. It was her eyes that left me completely unsettled. Looking at me like we had a history. I couldn't put two and two together. I tried to shake off the uneasiness she left me with, but to no avail. I canceled the appointment I was going to and instead headed to the nearest bar. I knew I must have looked odd with that sinister look on my face, but I couldn't stop thinking about her. I hadn't drunk that much in a while and when I was ready to leave, I definitely felt the intoxicating effect on my body in my desperate attempt to forget her. To forget her eyes that burned themselves into my memory. The bartender was kind enough to hail a cab for me as I staggered out the bar. I do remember tipping the cab driver generously since he made the effort to escort me all the way to my condo door to make sure I made it home to the right place. I crashed on my bed, fully clothed. It was totally out of character for me. I had women tell me that my meticulousness was too much to put up with and refused further dates and here I was, passed out like a regular drunk. She came to me in my deepest state of unconsciousness. She had the same eyes, but her hair and skin color were different. She was in the throes of labor. Profuse sweat was covering her beautiful face. I had barely been out of residency and she was one of the first handful of patients I delivered on my own. I remembered her clearly in my dream. Not only because of her beauty. Not only because she was going to be a single mother with the father being out of the picture before the baby was being born. But she was my first patient who died under my care. Here she was pushing, grunting, moaning. But it wasn't the typical laboring pain. Something had gone terribly wrong and she was too far in already. Her uterus had ruptured mid-labor and she was hemorrhaging to death as she was fighting for her unborn's life. Her piercing eyes begged me "save my baby". I performed an emergency cesarean section to pull out the baby from her womb. The newborn already showed signs of distress and the neonatal intensive care team that had been called for assistance, took over her care. Whisking her off as soon as I handed her over so I could continue taking care of her mother. But all my efforts failed and she died right there. In front of me. I remember the baby having an extended care in the hospital but she was eventually discharged into the custody of a family member. Despite her rough start into this world, she appeared to have overcome the initial challenge to survive since she looked perfectly healthy as she passed me by, staring me down with those eyes. She must have immediately known who I was when she saw me. Which wasn't a hard thing to find out. Her birth records would show who delivered her and I could be looked up easily in any public records. I woke up with a pounding headache. I headed straight to the bathroom and threw up until I felt I purged the lining of my guts. I layed sprawled out on the bathroom floor with the knowledge sinking in that I would feel haunted for the rest of my life, unless I would find her and speak to her. It took me months of siphoning through all sorts of records to locate her. Apparently she ended up in foster care because there was no family to provide her with a stable home. The family member who took her home from the hospital was her maternal grandfather who kept her to collect the small social security check from her mother's death so he could spend it on his drug habits. Eventually that situation became so dire that she was placed in foster care. When I finally found her, it took some desperate convincing on my behalf before she agreed to meet me. We met at a small coffee shop downtown. She was hostile and reluctant. Until she blurted out "you killed my mother, the only person who would have loved me" as tears of deeply buried grief streaked down her cheeks. I sat there, shocked into speechlessness. All her unleashed pain poured over me. I remembered the day we passed each other and how she had stared me down. The fierceness of her gaze finally made sense. "Please, hear me out" I pleaded with her. She took the napkins I handed her to wipe her tears and looked up at me. With those eyes. "I'm not sure what you have been told and by whom, but at least listen to my side of the story since I was actually there when your mother died...and you were born." She took in a slow deliberate breath and cleared her throat. "Okay" she nodded her head "go ahead". I told her everything I knew about her mother, and the little I knew about her mother's personal circumstances. I told her how hard her mother was fighting to give birth to her. How she begged me to save her baby's life. How I tried to save her mother's life and simply couldn't. How her mother's life literally slipped out from my hands. She cried silently the whole time while never taking her eyes off me. "I can't change the circumstances of your birth. I can't change everything that happened in your past. But I can be here for you now..if you let me." She sat there across from me, contemplating everything she had heard from me. "I hated you for all those years" she finally said quietly. "But I am not who you were made to believe I am. I didn't kill your mother." "I know that now" she simply replied. I breathed out a sigh of relief. She gave me a small smile. "We can meet again, here, next week, same day and time" she offered. I smiled back at her "I would like that very much". With that, we rose and she gave me a hug. I wrapped my arms around her. I could feel the release of her letting go of something that was never hers to carry. I pushed her away a little so I could see her face "I'm so glad I was able to find you." She shook her head in agreement and said "So am I, so am I. It feels like I'm breathing for the first time." ~•~•~•~• a beautiful milieu Image artist unknown