Generations I

Tennessee was cold this time of year. The leaves fell off the trees and landed swaying in the wind one after another. My me-maw told me that her mother had raised her by herself and her mother before her. Generations had been fatherless, until I came along. My mama was a married woman. She was for a time anyway.
I was Meredith Holloway Graham, but now I’m Meredith Holloway Jones. My middle name sounds like a last name, but Daddy said Mama fell in love with it when she first heard it. You see, I’m named after one of Mama’s students. Her name was Meredith Holloway. Well get to that in a minute.
I met my husband in college, and he whisked me off my feet. He was a handsome fellow with beautiful brown eyes, named Steven. He stood a little taller than me, which I liked. I needed me a tall man to get things from the top shelf. I was only 5’4 myself.
After college, I moved back to the small town that I grew up in. I stayed in the very house where I lived as a child. Steven and I married shortly after I came home from college. We got our own place a few miles away. Daddy was sad to see me go. He said that I was his baby girl.
“Always have been always will be,” he said kissing me goodbye before the wedding. He pulled my veil over my head and sent me on my way. He believed in Steven. He knew he would take good care of me. I think if Daddy didn’t have peace about it, he never would have let me go.
My Daddy raised me all by himself after I turned five. My mama had run off when I was a baby never to be seen or heard from again. All that changed a few years ago when she showed up on my doorstep; a note pinned to her jacket with my name on it. She had no questions and no answers.
Since Mama has been here, I haven’t slept the same. Then it started – the dreams. They are so vivid it is like I’m really at the place I’m dreaming about and with the people there. Daddy said my mama was a dreamer. When I was a baby she would sit and tell me her dreams, he said. I can’t say I remember any of that.
“Meredith, you did it again.” My husband called to me from the breakfast table while quietly reading his newspaper.
“Did what?” I yelled from the bedroom. Twirling my hair around my ears, I pursed my lips. I was ready for work. Smiling at myself, I fluffed my blouse and walked into the kitchen.
“What did I do Steven?” I leaned on the wall and rested one hand on my hip. I crossed one leg in front of the other and posed.
“You did it again, with them nightmares. Screaming and all that.” Steven looked up at me from his newspaper. “I’m concerned about you, baby.” He folded his newspaper and leaned one arm on the table. “I can’t get a lick of sleep, and neither can you.”
He was a sweet man. After college I had gotten deathly ill from an infection. Left me bedridden for years. He never said anything. Just loved me. I could not have children, but he didn’t care. He said that women were for more than just procreating.
I was finally healthy now and wanted to work. I needed to get out of the house. These four walls were starting to get to me. My dreams were just a silly inconvenience.
“I know,” I said patting my hips. I walked over to Steven and put my arm around him. “But I don’t want to talk about it.” I kissed him on his cheek and walked towards the dishes in the sink. “It’s just something I got to get over.” I said over my shoulder.
Steven turned around in his chair and stared at me. “How can you get over it if you don’t talk about it?” He walked over to me and put his hands on my hips. “Why don’t you ask your…..” Steven was interrupted.
“Mama, is that you?” I heard a creaking sound and saw Mama peering around the corner in her pink robe.
My mother stayed with us. Ever since she showed up on my doorstep a few years ago, I haven’t let her out of my sight. She showed up with a note pinned to her jacket and a blank look on her face. I remember that letter like it was tattooed on my hand.
Dear Meredith,
If you receive this letter, it’s probably because my episodes have gotten too much for me to handle. I asked my best friend, Gayle, to try and find you if I ever got too sick to stay alone. I know I left you as a baby and I’m sorry for that. I left hoping to keep you and Daddy safe. I hope one day to tell you all about that. Please forgive me and know that I never stopped loving you. If you ever get this letter, please try and take me in. I promised Gayle I would keep her full name a secret, so she won’t be with me when you read this. She doesn’t like drama and said this could damage her reputation in the city. You may know by now how silly people are about rumors and such. I believe that somehow, she will know that I am well. I gave her a picture of you when you were a baby so she could try and find you. I figured you and your Daddy didn’t go far. He loved that small town we lived in together. I imagine he never left.
I can’t wait to see you, Meredith.
From your mama with love,
Pauline Stewart Graham