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He didn’t regret coming out. Maybe he would have liked to come out on his own terms, maybe he would have liked to visit Russia one last time, but not because he held any loyalty there. Not because he missed his brother- maybe he missed his niece a little bit. He would have liked to visit his mother’s grave one last time. He would have liked to explain to her why he wasn’t coming back. Why he’d never be able to come back. He loved Shane more than he loved anything. He didn’t regret loving Shane openly, or marrying him. He just wished that he could have brought Shane to his mother, introduced him, and talked to her one last time.
The cottage he felt her presence sometimes. In the quiet morning, when he sat and stared out at the lake, and as he watched the sun rise over the horizon and kiss the land awake. When the birds got annoyingly loud singing their morning songs, and the bugs began their noises to answer them. He sighed, leaned back to embrace the warmth of the sun, “мама,” He sighed. He glanced down to his lap, a small leather bound journal open to a blank page, and a pen grasped in his right hand.
His therapist had recommended he write to his mom. That maybe it would help him still feel close to her again. He started to write, slow at first, and then his hand flying across the page in cursive cyrillic.
Dear Mama,
I’m in therapy now. She said to do this. I think maybe you needed therapy…maybe if you had gotten help you wouldn’t have thought the only way was death. I wish you were here. I want you to see the man I have become. I think you would be proud. I hope you are proud. I have quit smoking and it was probably the stupidest- hardest thing I have had to do. You used to say love makes you stronger, and that’s the only reason I was able to quit. For him. You’d like him, Mama. He’s so- he’s the opposite of me. Beautiful, kind, strong, and fierce. Like the kind of knight in the stories you used to read me. He saved me, Mama. He made my life something more than meaningless wandering. I wish you could meet him…he’d be so awkward. He’d be worried you wouldn’t like him. He’d probably bring you flowers…or maybe wine.
We got married, Mama. Me…I actually married someone. I committed my heart, body, and soul to someone. Someone chose me. We talked about having kids…we’re going to have kids…after we retire…maybe sooner. He said if we have a girl I could name her after you..and I like that. I think I will. I’m sorry I don’t visit anymore, but you know I can’t now. The whole world knows I married a man…you know how Russia is with that. But not you. Right, Mama? I make enough money now that if you were alive I could have brought you here…to Canada…you could come to our games and you could sit with Yuna and David.
You’d like Yuna too. She’s a lot like Shane. She takes care of me now. Like a mom. She makes sure I eat enough, take my medicine, and she cheers me on at games. She makes sure my sweet tooth is well fed…she hugs me too. Shane doesn’t really know that. We pretend that I am her favorite son, but maybe it’s more than that. I think she knows I need a mom. We have mother son dates…that’s what she calls them…we go out for lunch and we go shopping. Sometimes we just talk for hours, and she holds on to my arm as we walk around. I had to skip a game last season because Shane gave me his stupid Canadian cold, and I couldn’t play because I had a fever. I was fully prepared to deal with it by myself. Like I used to after you died. Then Yuna and David were in my house, and David made me soup. Yuna wrapped me in a blanket and made me tea. She held me, Mama. Please don’t be jealous that she takes care of me. Don’t be mad that I call her Mama too, but that’s what she is now. It’s only right.
Ilya took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and stared at the lake water that glimmered in the morning sun. The warmth spread over his skin, and it kissed his cheeks as he wiped his eyes again. He felt like his mother was sitting next to him, watching his pen scribble across the page, and maybe she was wrapping him a ghostly arm around him. He glanced behind him at the cottage, he saw Shane walking in the kitchen bleary eyed, and a blanket wrapped tight around his body. He watched him as he grabbed two mugs, moved to the coffee maker, and then adorably yawned and shook his head like he was trying to shake sleep away. He was coming to him, he’d give him coffee, wrap the blanket around his shoulders, and then tuck himself under Ilya’s arm where they’ll sit in silence and just be with each other.
He sucked in a breath and continued.
I miss you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you. I have to wrap up quickly…Shane is coming. He demands my attention…I have to pretend to be annoyed because he makes a cute face like a small kitten. You’d love him so much, Mama. Please tell me you see us from heaven…please tell me you like him…and that you’re proud. I miss you so much. I love you so much. I will write again soon.
Just as he tucked his pen into the notebook Shane was handing him a cup of coffee. Ilya smiled at him, and helped him up on the rock to sit next to him. “Morning,” Shane said sleepily as he leaned his head on Ilya’s bicep. “What’re you doing?”
Ilya set the notebook aside, and wrapped his arm around Shane, and took a small sip of his sugary coffee. “Talking to мама.”
Shane smiled at him. “Yeah?”
“I wish she could meet you,” Ilya sighed. It wasn’t the first time he’d said the phrase, and he doubted it would be the last. Still, it didn’t make it any less true.
Shane wrapped an arm around his waist, and he turned his head to press a kiss to his shoulder. “I wish I could have too.”
They sat in silence, the sun rising, their coffee warming their chests, and the sun warming their skin while they warm each other’s hearts. It was peaceful. It was serene. It was perfect. In their peace a gentle breeze picked up and wrapped around them, and it tousled his curls almost reminiscent to the way his mother did when he was a boy. He didn’t know whether he believed in signs or an afterlife, but in the quiet and breeze kissing his skin he let himself believe it was his mother talking to him.
I love you too, I’m proud of you, and I am with you always.