Author’s Notes: This story takes place sixteen years after Mark’s death. It rotates back and forth from present to past, beginning in the present. So when you see those little stars, it means time warp.

Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Oh well, I guess. These characters are copyright NBC and Warner Brothers. I am not making any profit. I’m just having fun! And blah blah blah…

Feedback: Did you hate it? Did you love it? Was it somewhere in between? Have any suggestions? And ideas? (Please, I need them!) Please tell me your thoughts. Email me at greeneblob707@yahoo.com with the title of the story as your subject.

Elizabeth stood by the counter of the kitchen, toying with Ella’s pale blue earrings. She could barely believe that Ella was so grown up, wearing jewelry, make up, and today, a cap and gown. It seemed as if just yesterday, Ella had been prancing through this very kitchen in her dress-up clothes, or sitting on this same counter after scraping her knee. No, it had, in fact, been many years ago. Elizabeth remembered those days so well. Sometimes she longed to go back to those days, when a boo boo could be healed with a band aid. It left no scars. They had been through many years together, and some “boo boos” had been much harder to heal than a simple scrape. But they had gotten through, and after all they had endured together, they would be separated. Her little girl would go off on her own. Elizabeth knew Ella would be fine. It was herself that she worried about. How would she give up what she had lived so many years for? Glancing at that counter, she wished to go back to those days. She wasn’t ready to let her little girl go.

Elizabeth heard wails from the backyard one day when Ella was five years old. A panic surged through her as she raced out to the swingset where Ella had been contentedly entertaining herself. Elizabeth silently cursed herself for having left such a little girl alone outside. The cries grew louder as Elizabeth approached. Her heart beat a little faster as her mind raced through all the possible injuries Ella could have sustained. The girl was sobbing and screaming, hiccuping, calling her mother. Elizabeth was relieved to find no broken bones and no sign of damage, aside from a cut that could easily be treated with soap, water, and a band aid. Nevertheless, Elizabeth patted the young girl’s head and gave her a big but gentle hug. Calming her down, she took Ella’s hand and led her inside. Ella limped alongside her mother, upset by the blood but trying to be brave, like her mother had instructed her.

Once inside, Elizabeth sat Ella on the counter, where she pretended to examine Ella throughly. “I don’t think it needs stitches,” Elizabeth told her daughter. “You were lucky.” The mother carefully cleaned and dried her daughter’s knee. She placed a nice bright pink band-aid on it and added a kiss for good measure. “Good as new,” she said. “You were very brave.”

Ella smiled as her mother said those words. She was proud that she had been brave. And she knew her mommy was proud too.

“Mom?” Ella called. “Have you seen my earrings?”

“They’re right here,” Elizabeth called back from the kitchen counter.

“Ugh, thank God. I was looking for them everywhere.”

“Right where you left them,” Elizabeth responded.

“I didn’t leave them here,” Ella replied.

“Oh, yes, you did. I found them here when I got back from work. You were probably running around the house getting ready, and I bet you mistakenly left them here without even noticing. You take after me that way.”

Ella smiled and stopped her protesting, realizing her mother was probably right. “I’m ready to go,” she said instead.

Elizabeth stepped back and admired her daughter, taking in the maturity and incredible presence in front of her eyes. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of pride as she looked at Ella in her cap and gown. Elizabeth could already feel her eyes tearing up.

“One more thing,” Elizabeth said, reaching into her purse. She pulled out an envelope with the name Ella sprawled across the front in careful script. Elizabeth whispered, “This was from your father. He wanted to make sure you got it when you were old enough to understand. On your graduation day.”

Ella took the envelope with a measured amount of respect and uncertainty. “Thank you,” she breathed, almost afraid to open the letter.

Ella leaned over her mother’s dresser, rooting through the various papers, cosmetic supplies, and articles of clothing that lay there. It was a mess. All she wanted was to find a color of nail polish that would match the shirt she was wearing. She never meant to come across the piece of paper she found lying there within all the junk, but the words “I love you” caught her eye, and she was too tempted to resist. For as long as she could remember, her mother had never had a boyfriend. She was so busy with work that she couldn’t keep her dresser clean, let alone carry on a mature relationship.

Ella checked the bottom of the paper to see who it was from. She was shocked to see the name Mark signed at the bottom. Her father had been dead for thirteen years. What was this letter doing there? Ella was so engrossed in reading the letter of the man she knew so little about that she didn’t hear her mother approaching behind her.

Ella jumped when she turned around to see Elizabeth watching her. At first, she was afraid that her mother would scold her for reading it. Her father had died when Ella was just a year old, and Eliabeth rarely talked about him. Ella often wondered about him and about why Elizabeth had never told her stories about him, but she was afraid to ask. There had to be a reason for the silence.

Instead of scolding the fourteen-year-old, a look of sadness and regret came over Elizabeth’s face. “We need to talk,” Elizabeth realized and told her daughter. And they did talk. They ordered a pizza and spent the night telling and listening to stories about Mark, the man with whom they were both very much connected, whether or not they could remember him. Late that night, as Ella climbed into bed, she felt a sense of understanding about her past. She felt much closer to Elizabeth. There were no secrets anymore. Most of all, she had learned something very important about her mother. Her mother was a brave woman.

Ella held the envelope in her hands as she climbed into the car with her mother. She held it in her lap for awhile, debating whether or not to open it immediately. She decided to save it for later. She knew there would be enough tears for that day. She didn’t want to begin the ceremony with puffy eyes, even though they would inevitably end that way.

“Do you have your speech?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yup.” Ella nodded and smiled to herself. After four years of hard work in high school, Ella had been named class valedictorian. It was something she, and her mother, had been very proud of. All the stresses, trials, and tribulations had paid off. And then, she had to write the speech.

“So I’ll finally get to hear it?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, finally,” Ella replied.

Elizabeth had bothered Ella about hearing what she had written, especially since Ella had complained for so long about having to write it. However, once Ella had finally completed the speech, she refused to let it anywhere near Elizabeth. She had amazingly kept it out of her mother’s reach for quite some time.

“You’ll hear it, don’t worry,” Ella assured her.

Ella sat down at her desk for the fourth time that week with a clean sheet of paper, a sharpened pencil, and a full trash can. Writing a speech was so much different than writing the many research papers, essays, and outlines she had completed during her academic career.

Nothing she had written up to this point seemed good enough. She was graduating. It was incredible to think about what she had accomplished and what she had to look forward to, but she had no idea how to put it all into words. This was her last chance to express how she felt about her experience at high school.

Normally, when she was struggling so much with something like this, she asked her mother for help. But this was something she wanted to do on her own. Her mother had been there for her since the very beginning, guiding, helping, teaching, pushing her gently toward this finish line. She wanted to show her mother just how well she had taught her. She wanted to make her mother proud.

Ella sighed, looking down at the looseleaf that still lay blank on her desk. Good intentions certainly did not write speeches. So what did? Suddenly, an idea struck her. She began her long flow of writing and stayed cooped up in her room for several hours. And it all began with one person.

“Throughout my seventeen years, I have faced many challenges that might have prevented me from getting to where I am now. I could have easily slipped off the path to success, but I didn’t. There is only one reason for that. That reason is the strongest, most courageous woman I know, my mother.”

Tears welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes for the second time that day, as she listened and watched her daughter speak from the podium. Her daughter was prepared to go off on her own. She was ready to enter the world. Elizabeth needed to let her go. As much as she wished to hang on, she knew that some things needed to come to an end. Ella’s childhood was ending. Elizabeth couldn’t believe it.

It had been over seventeen years since her daughter was born. Seventeen years since she had first held the innocent young life in her arms. Seventeen years since she had faced the uncertainty of shaping that young life into a strong woman. Seventeen years since she had looked into the huge, wondrous eyes and seen hope in spite of all her problems. That hope never died. That bit of hope had been formed into a strong young woman.

It had been sixteen years since Mark had died. After he had passed away, Elizabeth was sure that she would never be able to go on. But Ella had been her hope and her strength even then. The tiny creature was the one thing that had kept her going throughout her doubt, her despair, her hopelessness. Elizabeth was strong because Ella had been her strength. Her strength, her hope, her love, was there, standing proud and strong for everyone to see. She couldn’t ask for anything more than that.