Ula sat drinking tea next to her "boyfriend," Johnny. She looked over at him spread out on the couch and as soon as he saw her peeking at him he got up, lazily stretched, and then licked her face like crazy. Ula laughed then sighed.
It was getting to be that point in the evening she referred to as her "witching hour." She had found long ago that her productivity window was special. She thought of her older daughter then and how she had said she was a morning person. Ula considered herself to be a morning person as well. Preferring an early bed time to a late one so she could get up and feed the kids including her boyfriend, Johnny.
"Mom, look at this," Sally said, showing her the screen of her Nintendo Switch, "can you even believe that?"
Ula looked down to see the white dog nose being sold in Able's on Animal Crossing, "Shit! Is that what I think it is?" she said laughing.
The two laughed together shaking their heads. They had been waiting months to buy the white dog nose only to have discovered, Beth, her older daughter, had it all along! Now that they had it, there it was in the shop.
"Okay, babe!" Ula said suddenly, "it's about that time!" Sally looked over at the clock on the wall with the Coca Cola bottle painted on it. It read 7:00pm EST. Sally smiled.
The two got up off the couch and switched the TV off. They turned on every light in the living room and kitchen to illuminate the first floor. They usually preferred the dark, something Beth never understood. But during witching hour? The lights came on.
Ula sat down at her desk and surveyed her weapons. Pen, ink, paint, pencils, canvas, sketchbook, watercolor paper, watercolor pencils. The options were endless. She looked up and across the room to find Sally, her younger daughter, tuning the radio. She reached 101.9 and turned the volume way up. "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" by Judy Garland was playing.
Sally then grabbed the remote to the electric fire place and turned it on. The rocks lit up purple, for the Ravens, and the orange flames danced above them. The Christmas tree, having been decorated the day after Thanksgiving, was situated perfectly in the corner near to Ula just to her left. Johnny and the kids; Holly, Peaches, Bunny, and Moira, could be seen littering the space here and there mostly avoiding each other. Although, John was looking right at Peaches, drooling.
The two now sat at their stations separately, ready to begin. The song changed to "Christmas Shoes" and Sally had an idea.
"Hey, why don't we do something to donate somewhere for the season?" She suggested, thinking of the little boy in the song and the man who helped him.
"Like, to a museum of sorts?" Ula asked to clarify.
"No, I mean, what about the guy we always pass when we walk Johnny and Holly?" Sally answered.
Ula considered this, "I'm not sure he would have anywhere to keep something like that," she explained, "it might not mean much to him, but we can try!"
Ula was a special kind of lady. The rare kind. She was the white girl who could actually dance, the glue that held most friendships together, and a true master of most trades. Ever hear that saying, "Jack of all trades, master of none?" She was actually the master of pretty much everything.
Whenever Ula tried something new whether it be a sport, hobby, art medium, career path; she nailed it all. Not to mention, completely nailing being a mother; arguably the hardest thing to give a go at! It was not hard at all to imagine how attractive she was as a person, constantly connecting with people easily. She had a weakness though. A weakness most people don't consider to be a weakness at all. Maybe it was even taught to be seen as a strength.
Ula was a giver. It was natural to her to put others before herself. Having grown up under militant conditions, she was nothing but a work horse; constantly contributing herself somehow. With growing up comes responsibility, better to start early she could hear her father saying. Sure enough, that very summer, she was the one in charge of pushing the boats out and bringing the boats back in as her brothers, uncles, father and grandfather sat comfortably inside, poised to fish.
She ironed ties, shirts, pants, and handkerchiefs. She was the one in charge of dishes. Any of the cleaning in the house went to her. The bathrooms, the laundry room, the bedrooms; floors, windows, doors, and furniture, went to her. She would play the role of bartender for her father, caretaker for her siblings, and unfortunate occasional target practice for her mother. Her brothers? All 3 of them rotated taking out the trash.
Her family was loving of course, and her mother was supportive when she could be. Looking back, she could see a certain level of emotional and psychological abuse there, but, like most things with time; it healed. Her parents were much different people now, as we should be as we grow. The backhanded compliments and snide remarks vanished. The pressure she felt to be the perfect woman specimen for them relaxed.
And of course her family dynamic was very much a product of that time. Women did this. Men did that. Spectrums? Unfathomable in this very black and white world. So, she did her womanly duties around the house and everyone else did theirs. She was used to injustice pretty early and unfortunately, it became a learned behavior to accept it.
This was both positive and negative for Ula. For, it allowed her to practice radical acceptance; the idea that shitty things happen for no reason and there is not much we can do. But it also bled into her personal world too. Accepting injustices in the work place like when she got pregnant, went on maternity leave, and was immediately fired. Accepting injustices in her marriage and her friendships. It was the way of life; her life.
So, Ula gave. It's what she did! It was an old habit that would die hard. If it ever died at all. Over the years, her daughters have tried to bring balance back into her life in subtle ways. Giving what they can and taking as little as possible. They supported each other, the 3 girls. It was a lovely little family.
"Done!" Sally exclaimed as she held up her canvas dripping with paint she had poured.
"Beautiful, Sal!" Ula said lifting up her paper which by now was covered in beautifully written calligraphy of all different colors.
"Oh my goodness, mom!" Sally exclaimed, "What is it?" She said excitedly.
Sally walked over to Ula's desk and looked closer at the paper. There, expressed on the page, were words and phrases to describe Ula. Sally began to read...
Passionate...Creative...Always in bloom...Compassionate...Empathetic...Surrounded by magic...A huge surprise...Lucky to know me...Full of love...Positive addition...Home to some...Sexy...
Sally laughed at the last one, "Damn, mom, if you don't say so yourself? I love it! You are sexy!"
A mom...A warrior...A survivor...
The page was filled with encouraging words and phrases and Sally was beaming, "This is amazing, mom. You need this."
"What do you mean?" Ula said confused.
"You're so hard on yourself sometimes, and I know that's because you're used to people being hard on you, but let's change the narrative!" Sally explained, "You must keep this for yourself. You can't give this away."
"I just thought maybe the guy on the corner might believe these things about himself, too," Ula countered.
"No, mom, I don't think you understand," Sally began, "this must have come straight from you because you killed it! This simply could not be applied to anyone else, mom. It's yours. And you need to read this every day."
___________________________
Ula walked into her bathroom and was met by the artwork she had done all those years ago. She couldn't quite explain where it came from. She was certain she didn't feel that way about herself; how could she have written those things?
She wrestled with the artwork in her head constantly. Reading it multiple times a day, then ignoring it for weeks. Eventually she recognized a pattern of sorts. On the days she fully read the artwork and took in all of the words and phrases, something magical would happen. And she didn't mean like lollipops falling from the sky. Subtle magic.
For example, last Spring, Ula had planned to tend to her garden, pulling weeds and planting flowers. It was a particularly hard morning to get out of bed, so she turned to the artwork Sally was so adamant on her keeping. She noticed a phrase she hadn't remembered writing, "To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance."
Hmm, she thought. It was longer than the other phrases, and not necessarily about her at all. It was advice. Ula considered for the first time in her life if she truly loved herself. Shame filled her causing her anxiety. No, she decided defeated, she did not love herself. She did, but she didn't.
Ula sauntered out into the backyard with Johnny not far behind. She hadn't noticed him following her; she didn't normally allow him out while she was gardening.
As soon as she started paying attention to the flower bed, so did Johnny. He rampaged through the flowers tearing up plants and spraying them everywhere. Ula screamed, "NO!"
She grabbed Johnny's collar as fast as she could and led him inside. Her heart was beating as she turned to assess the damage and to her surprise, she laughed. A proper laugh, and for a long time too.
"Oh, Johnny," she sighed, "you're a good boy."
Somehow, some way, he had perfectly pulled up all the weeds leaving every single flower she had planted untouched.
Ula laughed for a really long time and sent a "thank you" out to the universe. Her work was done! She climbed the stairs back into her house to make herself some more coffee when her phone rang.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hi, am I speaking with Ulanda?" a voice reponded.
"This is she," Ula said.
"I was calling to let you know your submission was accepted and your artwork will be displayed in the museum starting at the beginning of June," the voice explained, "Thank you for your submission and we look forward to working with you in the future."
Before she could answer, the voice hung up. Submission? She sat at her desk and pulled out her laptop. There in her inbox was a confirmation email stating her artwork was submitted and under review. Another message popped up then from the same address. Another confirmation giving her the date and time her artwork would go on display. There, as an attachment, was a copy of her work. She clicked it and a PDF file opened in Adobe.
It was her calligraphy from all those years ago. But how? Given Ula was magical, she definitely had an inkling for who could be behind this. She picked up her phone and dialed her younger daughter.
"Did you submit my calligraphy from Christmas to some museum?" She said immediately when she heard the line pick up.
"Woah, hey mom, how are you?" Sally replied, "But, yes. I did. Did you read the description?"
Ula put down the phone and returned to her laptop. There, in the email, was a snippet describing the piece.
This was inspired by one of the most important women in my life. She has taught me the importance of being kind, but not too nice to everybody. The importance of staying strong in hard times, but that it's okay to cry too though. How lucky she is to be blessed to be her. This is the woman who taught me self-care and self-love. She helped me find myself when I didn't know who I was. This artwork is an expression of that woman; me. -Ula
Ula felt tears prickle at the sides of her eyes, "Thank you, Sally," and she hung up.
________________________________
It was the first day of June and Ula walked into her bathroom like she did first thing every morning. It was her birthday month! And the start of her artwork display! She looked at the artwork beaming. It had been a long time since she doubted the things written on that page. The words that made up who she was and the phrases that completed her. They were all true. They always had been. She loved herself.
Ula made her way to the museum, anxious to see her artwork on display. Quickly, she located it there on the left wall and walked over. A crowd started forming.
"Did you do this?" A man asked her.
"Yes," she said smiling.
"Well you seem like a pretty fantastic woman based on what's written on that page, I like your confidence. Your calligraphy is near perfect, too. Would you be interested in commissioning some pieces for my home?"
Ula couldn't believe it! A job offer! Of course, temporary, but everyone starts somewhere!
"Absolutely," she said, "let me get your details and we can chat about what you're looking for and set up a time for me to see your space so I can give you a better idea of what will work for you." She was impressed by her ability to assert herself. But then again, she wasn't surprised at all. This was her thing! Of course she was confident about it enough to be assertive and demanding. Why not!
The rare woman - whose very existence definitely confirmed the existence of magic - felt lighter that very first day of June. She was appreciated and loved. And sure, that existed extrinsically, but she wasn't talking about that. She appreciated herself. She loved herself. She could see the value and worth in everything she was, and finally, this was enough.
Ula began to skip, something she hadn't done in a while. It was raining, but that didn't matter. Because, really, it would never truly rain for her again. She had found her light. And, oh, how bright her light was. Ula smiled to herself then, wondering if she was even capable of crying anymore.
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