Remembrance

President Roslin looked over her appointment schedule for the day, but her eyes kept drifting back up to the date.  It was important for some reason, but she could not figure out why.  For several minutes she tried to recall the significance.  Then Laura put the paper down as realization hit…as of today, it had now been three years since her mother’s death.

The day just snuck up on Laura.  Yes, she had been incredibly busy since the attacks, but was that an excuse?  She tried to think back to the last time her mother had entered her thoughts.  It had been nearly a month.  Just about as long for the rest of her family.  What did that mean?  Were they no longer important to her?

Laura placed her head in her hands needing to block things out for a moment.

“Madam President?” Tory asked as she stood over her.  “Are you alright?

Laura had forgotten Tory was there.  She raised her head to address the woman.  “Yes, I’m fine.  Just a little tired all of a sudden.”

“Oh…well, the Quorum meeting is going to start in a few minutes.”

Ever the faithful schedule autocrat, aren’t we Tory, Laura thought to herself.

All interest in meetings, food rations, fuel supplies, and other petty problems in the fleet had been lost.  It was not that she wanted to sit around all day and grieve over her mother.  Laura did not believe in a yearly mourning.  She preferred to celebrate her mother’s life by remembering their time together everyday.  It was just she felt incredible guilt.  Today her mother had been gone for three years and it took the date on a stupid appointment calendar to remind her.

“The Quorum meeting…well we can’t be late for that now can we?” the president said sarcastically as she rose to accompany Tory to the meeting.

~~~~~

The day was a wash.  Laura now realized she should have faked illness and hid in her room all day.

She had stormed out of the Quorum meeting when they accused her of not being concerned enough with the current situation.  Later, the president threw the representatives from the workers union out of her office when they threatened a strike.  Poor Tory had received several tongue lashings and was now in hiding.

But the worst part was that Laura had blown up at Bill during their phone conversation and finally just hung up on him.  And he had done nothing wrong.  The admiral had been as calm and patient as he always was, but she just could not help it.  She had been so angry at herself all day that she had been willing to take it out on anyone else.  Including Bill.

Now she sat in her room alone.  All her meetings were finished for the day.  She still had a lot of work to accomplish, but she’d decided to say ‘Frak it’ and retreat to quiet solitude.

She sat on her bed, tears making tracks down her cheeks, a picture of her mother in her hands.  Laura was thankful she had one.  She had always carried pictures of her family, so when the Cylons attacked, they were still in her bag.

“That the cause for the rough day?” a husky voiced asked.  Laura turned her head abruptly to see Bill standing in her doorway.  He did not appear to be upset with her even though he had every right to be.  “Is it safe to come in?” he asked.

She quickly wiped her eyes and waved him over.  Laura returned her gaze back to the photo.

“Sorry I didn’t knock, but sound military strategy dictated a surprise attack.”

“So you’re saying I’m your enemy.”  It was a statement rather than a question.

Bill sat down beside her.  Concern was etched in his face and voice when he spoke.  “You tell me.  From what Tory says, you’re trying to make numerous enemies today.”

“I’m sorry I hung up on you.  I didn’t mean to loose my temper like that.”

“So are you going to answer my initial question?”  Bill could see something in Laura’s hands, but he could not quite make out what it was.

In response, Laura handed Bill the small photo.  He took it and studied it.  In it, Laura was standing beside an older woman, each had an arm wrapped around the other.  Given that both women wore the same smile, it was easy to guess who the other person was.  “Your mother.”

Laura nodded her head.  “She died three years ago today,” she hesitated and then finished with, “I didn’t remember until this morning.”

Bill handed the picture back.  Laura did not talk about her family often, hardly ever actually, but from what he had been able to piece together, her mother’s death had been particularly difficult.  Laura had always looked up to her mother, had even followed in her footsteps for a while.  And then, not quite two years after loosing her father and sisters, Laura’s mother passed away.  She had been the last of the family.  And then there were none.

“It’s childish I know to behave as I have all day.  She’s been gone for three years, I should be past it.  Everyone still alive has lost someone, multiple someones, close to them and more recently.”  She stood and quickly made her way over to her dresser.  “I need to stop wallowing in self-pity.  I have a fleet to look after.”  In frustration, Laura jerked a drawer open, tossed the photo in and slammed the drawer shut.  She did not turn around, just stared at the wall in front of her.

Bill was silent for a short while and then finally said, “Bull.”  Laura turned around surprised.  She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued.  “Just because your family died before the attacks does not invalidate your feelings.  You loved your mother and you miss her.  It’s normal, it’s what you’re supposed to feel.  That’s how we keep people close to us.  Missing them keeps them in our thoughts.”

She folded her arms and turned away from him to stare out the windows.  Bill said nothing, just remained silent until she was ready to speak, though he had already decided if she asked him to leave, he was not going to.

Laura could feel his eyes bore into her.  She really hated when he did this.  That damned Adama silence, just waiting for her to speak.  She really did not want to give this much of herself away, but they were friends and he probably better than anyone would understand, and she wanted to get this off her chest.

‘Missing them keeps them in our thoughts.’  Frak it! Laura whipped around, her face wet with new tears.  “That’s the problem, Bill…I forgot.  Every day, every year I seem to remember less and less about her, about all of them, and it scares the hell out of me.  This year I forgot about today until this morning.  I’m forgetting and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Bill sat studying her for a moment and then hiked up his sleeve to reveal a jagged scar on his forearm.  “See this scar?” he began, “I got that when I was five and I fell off my bike.  We had a hill near our house that all the big kids used to race down.  One day I mustered up the courage to give the hill a try.  I was doing fine until I got to the bottom and couldn’t stop before I hit a curb.  I flew over my bike and my arm scraped a branch on the ground as I landed.”

Laura eyed him wondering what the hell this had to do with their conversation.

The admiral pushed down his sleeve and then pulled up his pant leg to reveal another scar, this one crescent shaped.  “See this?  I have absolutely no idea how I got it.  I don’t remember if it was some stupid teenage prank or from my fighter pilot days.  I have no idea.”

“Bill,” Laura stated becoming irritated with his segue, “what does any of that have to do with anything?”

“Do you know why I can remember about the one scar but not the other?  It’s because I keep getting forced to tell how I got the one on my arm.  It’s on my arm.  People see it all the time: kids growing up, Carolanne, the boys, Tigh.  They all saw it and eventually curiosity got the better of them so they asked.  And I’d have to tell the story.  No one asks about the scar on my leg so I’ve never had to relay the story and now I’ve forgotten where it came from.

“That’s you’re problem, Laura.  You don’t talk about your mother, or any of your family, not really.  You occasionally mention them, but you never tell any stories.  If you want to keep a memory, you have to pull it down off the shelf and take it for a stroll once in a while.”

Laura contemplated his words.  What he was saying made perfect sense.  How could she expect to recall her times with her family if she never brought those memories to the surface?  It really annoyed her when he was right.

“So tell me a story,” Bill said as he sat back.  “Tell me a story of when little Laura Roslin got in trouble with her mother because she broke a dish.  Or when defiant teenage Laura got caught by her father sneaking in past curfew.”

So she did.  They sat for hours as Laura told Bill about her family.  As the stories came forth, Laura found that one memory would spark another, and another.  The recollection of some were as clear to her as if the event had occurred yesterday while others had begun to blur, but telling them seemed to help fill in the details.

When the time came for Bill to leave, Laura walked with him to his Raptor.  Just before he entered, she stopped him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Thank you, Bill.”

He smiled at her and then climbed the wing and into the ship.

~~~~~

A week later, the president knocked on the hatch to the admiral’s quarters.  They had a working dinner planned.  Bill opened the door so she could enter.  Once inside he escaped to his desk to retrieve something and Laura moved over to place her briefcase down beside the table.  That’s when she saw it.  There was a package sitting on the table.

“Open it,” Bill said when he saw her eyeing it as he walked back into the main area.

Laura turned and looked at him.  “What is it?”

“That would ruin the surprise.”

She shook her head.  “No, I mean why?”

“Open it,” he insisted.

Laura picked it up and carefully removed the paper.  Inside was a leather-bound book.  She flipped through the pages, but they were blank.  She then turned it over to the front cover.  It had “Laura Roslin” embossed in the bottom right-hand corner.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a journal – of sorts.  It’s so you can record your memories about your family.  So you’ll never forget.”

Laura looked to the book and then back to Bill.  She was at a complete loss for words so she moved over and hugged him.  Bill was a little taken aback, but managed a ‘you’re welcome’ to her whispered ‘thank you’.  When she released him, Bill could see her eyes were wet.

Laura admired the book again and slowly began to realize what must have gone into the gift.  The paper was high quality heavy stock.  Not anything near what the paper manufactures put out today.  Then she realized the paper was hand made, the texture of it a dead giveaway.  The cover was leather, where the hell he got it, she had not clue, and then of course the embossing which she was fairly certain was gold.

Bill had to have commissioned it specifically for her.  He had done that, all for her.  The tears she had been holding in check fell.  At the site of her tears, Bill placed a hand on her shoulder.  Laura looked to him and tried to find adequate words to describe what she felt.  “Bill, thank you.  This…this is the most extraordinary gift…anyone has ever given me.  I…I don’t…”

He stopped her at this point.  “I’m glad you like it.”

Typical Bill, thinking nothing of his own efforts, only what it would mean for the recipient.  Where had the Lords of Kobol found this one? Laura wondered.  And what did I do to deserve him in my life?