She said she had been planning it since I was born
Beautiful, it was
It had strawberry icing and real rose petals
All around the outside
I asked her why she made it,
‘Why today?’
She smiled
Touched my cheek, gently. ‘Because you were ready.’
I looked at it for the longest time
Didn’t want to cut into it yet
‘Why is it shaped like that?’
‘Because its made with your tears.’
‘But won’t that make it taste bitter?’
She looked surprised. ‘Oh no. Not at all. This cake is made from all of your tears; those of pain, those of joy and those you simply needed to release in order to move on.’
She went on to tell me about all the tears she had collected from me over the years.
‘You didn’t cry much when you were born, but the next day, when your Mum cried, so did you. Those were the first tears I collected from you…
Then there were the all the childhood tears – from separation anxiety, to tantrums, to those of excitement. Each time I was there, collecting a teardrop or two.
Then as you grew, there were more tears; your first love – lots of happy tears from this as well as those you shed when it was over. Tears from friendships made and broken…
Tears from the mixed emotions when you left home, those of frustration when you were on the wrong path but hadn’t yet realised it…
Tears for those you lost…
And tears from all those ‘just perfect’ moments.’
She looked at me.
‘There were more of those than you remember, you know.’
And I knew
‘…and when you had your child and cried unashamed tears of joy, I collected those too. And many, many more since.’ She smiled at me as a tear rolled down her own wrinkled cheek
‘And now, my Heart, you are ready.’
I cut into the cake
So light and fluffy, it was like cutting air
As I brought it to my lips, a few rose petals escaped, gently floating down and landing just past my toes
I took a bite of cake, soft buttercream icing and fresh strawberry
I cried. She was right. I was ready.
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