He Called Me Mother

(Victoria's POV)

by Arkangel

 

 

 

 

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission.  No copyright infringement is intended by the author.  The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

 

 

 

 

I must say, when Heath came here, all I could think about was making him feel wanted ..... secure ..... loved. It took a while, but I'm sure he's feeling all of that and more. Nick and Heath had both sat down and talked out their feeling, made their fears known and understood what had happened and where they, as brothers, were going.

 

I smile every time I see them together, the bridge between them sturdy and indestructible. I can't help but remember that day when it all came to a head, the love and respect simply poured from them at the simple word spoken.

 

Brother.

 

I had never given it much thought, how one word could mean so much. One would think words like 'love', 'caring', 'joy' ..... the list could go on and on, would have profound effects on those that received them, but a simple word spoken ..... one that most take for granted, could produce such a feeling. It was a landmark day to be sure. I've always wanted my children to have the best in life, thanks to my husband, they were able to have just that, but material things mean very little if you have no one to share them with. Heath had very little as a child, what little I was able to gather, he was very much with out and it broke my heart to see his amazement at the bounty his heritage had provided. Heath was humble and received the offer with a bit of hesitation, feeling he was not worthy of all we had. What he doesn't understand is that he has added to our bounty one hundred fold by just being here, with us.

 

I knew the time was growing nearer when we would need to talk, I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and how much he meant to all of us. I was given that chance on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Heath and I had spent time together, just he and I, two weeks ago. It was a glorious day and he had chosen to spend his off time with me in the garden. It was a blessing in my eyes. We spoke of the ranch, of his brothers and sister, we spoke of his appreciation at being allowed to be a part of it. Then he did something so unexpected it caused be to break down with love and emotion. I didn't think my love for my new son could be any deeper if I tried until he bestowed upon me the honor he had given only one other person in his short life. A title that only the life that bore him carried and my heart overflowed. He had said it innocently, as if he had been saying it all along, so natural was his statement that he didn't catch the word. In a sentence meant for conversation, he answered a question I had asked, the question I can't remember, but the answer was presented with a sweet smile, "I don't know, Mother." I laughed ..... then cried as my emotions ebbed then flowed ..... I watched his confusion then his realization at what he had said, "I'm sorry." He had bowed his head and whispered. I couldn't say anything for many minutes, the words forming into incoherent thoughts as I fought to show my utter joy at the phrase.

 

I reached over and took his chin in my shaky hand and gently raised his head to look at me. I felt the tears as they streamed down my cheeks but did nothing to wipe them clear. His own emotion shown openly, he was fighting hard to hold them make, but a few arrant tears tracked down his own cheeks in their act of defiance. He seemed embarrassed at their unwillingness to obey, to stay hidden and under guard. I formed a sweet smile, schooling my thought process and tried to convey what my heart was feeling, "No ..... Heath." I started, "Don't be sorry."

 

Heath swiped at the moisture on his face and remained quiet.

 

"You've given me a great gift and I will not allow you to take it back." I told him, still wracked with emotion, "I have waited for that word to come from you for many days." He tilted his head slightly at the comment, looking very much like a little boy, "You have?" Heath asked me, "Why are you crying?" A short, sobbing laugh escaped as I took his face in my hands, "Heath," I said, "I cried when each of my own children were born, I cried when two of my children had died ..... I'm crying because God has given me a child, even though I did not give birth to you, and that is a gift. You, as any child, are a gift from God. We are blessed with a arrival of a new family member and I'm rejoicing in that. I love you, young man, you are my son and to hear you call me Mother is the greatest gift I could have imagined from you."

 

Heath seemed taken back by my unbridled show of emotion, I knew it had been a while sense he had received the love only a mother could show. I feel as if I had given him a gift as well, because the smile he gave me short after could have lit up the darkest of places. It was a pure, unmasked smile. No uncertainty, no doubt ..... just love. He took that moment to pull me into a loving hug, holding on tight as if I would slip away should he release me. I felt tremors and the wetness on my shoulder and knew he was crying, though no sound came fourth.

 

I held him in the garden for many minutes, crying along with him and giving him soft words of love to show my feeling were true. Soon, we broke apart and I took the kerchief from my sleeve and dabbed at first his eyes, then my own. "I love you, Heath ..... as much as all my children. Never doubt that." I said as I cupped my right hand on his cheek. He turned into the caress, closed his eyes and sighed.

 

"I love you too, Mother."

 

My heart sang out, at that moment I felt what Nick and Heath had felt when they were given the gift of 'brother'. I thanked God, I thanked Tom .....

 

He called me Mother.

 

 

 

THE END