Mildred

I called Mildred the day after her interview. I called and called. When she left here Wednesday night she had an interview with another family the next morning that needed her part time as well. If both jobs jelled, which it seemed, well, it felt so right and real and some kind of global destiny that she had arrived in this country to care for my family. Mildred would come and live with us, she would stay with us for years and years and become part of our family. When I went to bed Wednesday night, I was smiling and happy and felt weight leave my body. The days the other woman wanted would jive with our schedule. I had every faith in the world they would.

They didn't.

The other woman needs part time all through summer. Mildred declined her offer, which worked around our part time needs, but had to turn it down based on the fact we need full time in the summer.
It's a logositcal nightmare between my work shifts and hockey and art class and the dentist and sleepovers and time just to be us, together, my family, hanging out.
When I finally reached Mildred, it was awful. I was soo sure, so sure, and then when I started talking to her I knew from the moment, following a heavy sigh and a very long delay, she recognized my voice that something wasn't right.

"Oh hello," she said. I heard deep sadness.
"How did it go with the other family?" I asked.
"Well, good, they are a very nice family..." She went on and gave me the details..."But," she said. But, I thought, the word I didn't want to hear. Tears came to my eyes and Mildred continued. "I need to work full time all the time," another very long pause, and then "In my heart," she said, and started to cry. "In my heart, I so want to be with you and your children.. but I cannot and... I must send money to my family," she said, and was silent. I felt her closing her eyes and gathering her strength. I closed my eyes and asked for some. "I have an appointment tomorrow with an agency," Mildred said. "They think they will have a family for me right away and....I'm so sorry."

I was sitting on the love seat, the same one I had sat on the night before while I had my wine and chatted with this lovely woman who I envisioned teaching Helaina and I to make Philipine food and bring a new culture, a calm serenity that she posessed, into my home and then I thought about her children who will see their mother sooner if she makes more money to sponsor them to finally come and live with her.

"Oh Mildred, don't be sorry. I understand, I do, and if we could afford it we would want you to be here all the time, it's just we can't and with both kids in school for a few more months...but I understand. You have to do what is best for your family. Don't be sorry. I am the one who's sorry."

We didn't speak for a time. I could hear her crying, softly, missing her family, I thought, homesick and alone in a new country, working for stranger.

"I wanted so much to come, I did," Mildred said, "...You are good,"

The thing inside of me that had attached itself to Mildred swelled.

"I know...so did I," I said. "But I think, I believe," I couldn't stop crying. Phil came over and sat with me and held my hand. "I believe," I said, "that our paths will cross again one day. One day they will."

"God bless you Pah-tea," Mildred said. Pah-tea, just like that, with a French lilt. "God bless you."

He did.