Yesterday's Memory

[Racaiya Wylddun]

Wylddun Estate
Corellia
533 ABC

“Say not in grief ‘he is no more’ but in thankfulness that he was.”
Theme​

Journal Entry 375:

It's been 25 years since I last stepped foot into the mansion I once called home. The atmosphere was completely different; no longer vibrant but now gloom. As I entered, I was greeted by an old lady, whom I did not recognize at first. The lady was one of my caretakers, but she did not seem to recognize me. "I'm here to see Mr. Wylddun, he was an acquaintance of my late father." I felt no need to be completely honest; I didn't even feel like I was allowed in the mansion anymore. The old lady gave a faint smile, nodded her head, and led me towards the master bedroom.

Walking through the hallways of the mansion was nostalgic, it seemed as if everything was kept the exact same way since I was here. Light gleamed through the window panels, highlighting the wooden infrastructure. Memories of my childhood, both good and bad, would pour into my mind. However, I knew what was going to come next, the room where it happened. The room where the very events that sprouted my adventure occurred. I attempted to look away when walking past, but I gave in. From what I could see through the doorway, the room was cleaned up and preserved like it was a museum piece. Only feelings of sorrow were expressed but I continued to follow the caretaker.

Once we arrived at the door to the master bedroom, the caretaker simply stared into my eyes. The caretaker smiled, bowed, and then walked off. I was rather unsure whether or not the caretaker knew who I really was, but the uncertainty lightened my spirit as if I had been reaccepted into the home. Facing the door, I took a deep breath and walked in. Lying in the bed was my father attached to some medical equipment. The room was silent, but the silence would be disturbed by the occasional beeps from the machine. I walked towards the bedside, each step echoing throughout the room. I kneeled by her father, taking his hand into mine. He was to the point of near-death where it seemed as if he were unconscious even when he was awake. I stood like this for a few moments, my mind blank on what to do in the situation. My mind and soul clashed with emotions; the mind filled with contempt but my soul filled with remorse. Almost by surprise, my father shakingly removed his hand from mine and placed it on my cheek. He attempted to mumble something to me, but it was inaudible. In an instant, his hand fell from my face and his last breath could be heard.

My eyes overflowed with tears for my father; I took his hand and placed it back onto her cheek. I let out all of my sadness in a loud bawl. Though my relationship with my father was not the best, the feelings one receives from their father can never be ended. I continued to cry for an hour, and by then I wiped away her tears and stood up. My grief for my father was over, and now it was time to continue living with my father watching. I gave a bow to my now deceased father and exited the room. The caretaker was waiting for me outside the room, and she held a small box. The box was of relative smallness, but it was quite decorated on the outside. The caretaker handed me the box, and within the box was a necklace and an envelope. I ignored the necklace but held up the envelope: "For My Dearest Daughter" was written on the front. I simply placed the envelope back into the box and handed it to the caretaker. I didn't have to read the letter in order to know what was written; I flashed a smile to the caretaker and made my way out of the mansion.

As I exited the mansion, I turned around to get one last glance at it. My first thoughts were to hire a company to preserve the building, but I changed my mind. I had no need to preserve the building in order to maintain the memories from that past life. These memories, which are my life--for we possess nothing certainly except the past--were always with me.