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I thought of M’s question on the board.
Where is she?
Now back in reality, I had a clearer mind.
I stared at the empty space and then gazed up at the old building behind all my personalities.
I bet M is right. She is the way we will heal.
I just didn’t know how to find her, and what I would do once I did.
Behind me, a soft knock sounded and then the door opened.
I turned and saw Baba entering.
Today, her face appeared weathered in the morning light as if she had aged ten more years overnight.
She didn’t frown or smile. She just slowly closed the door and walked over to me.
I decided to see if I could speak. My throat was hoarse, yet words came out. “Did you know that I wasn’t the original?”
Baba gave me a sad smile. “It doesn’t change who you are.”
I returned to looking at the painting. “But. . .”
“Talk to me, Emily.”
“Am I still me?”
“You are.”
My voice cracked. “Am I still Emilio’s mother?”
“More than ever. More than anyone could be.”
“Good.” I swallowed. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
“I hoped you would say that.”
I added a few more touches to my face on the canvas as if more detail would give me more power in reality.
Baba spoke, “I should read your cards.”
I looked at the painting, the figures representing the different parts of me, and a small sense of acceptance washed over my soul.
“Emily. . .”
“I came to New Orleans to become one.” I turned to her. “But I end up being six people.”
Baba gazed at the painting. “Did you meet all of them in this session?”
“I haven’t met Amber or the original.”
Baba considered that and let out a long sigh. “You may not need to meet Amber this time to heal.”
I blinked. “No?”
“However, healing. . .the very definition will need to be understood.”
