Pain.
I’ll never breathe again, never feel at peace now that she’s gone. My aching heart is fractured and broken, lying in pieces, scattered like the dirt we just threw on her grave.
A shiver leaves my body feeling cold as I stare at her place in the woods, the place where she wanted to be buried, surrounded by the nature that she so loved. But all I feel is agony ripping my heart in two, leaving me an empty husk of who I once was.
How will I go on now that the woman who gave me life breathes no more? How will I navigate the world without her gentle guidance, her love that protects me from all the monsters that hide in the shadows?
A single tear tracks down my cheek, warm against my frozen skin. My fingers lift, brushing it away, the moisture glistening on my fingertip in the frozen sunlight.
Her death wasn’t easy. I wish I could take solace and say that her death was quick, but cancer isn’t that kind. What took a lifetime to build, barely took a matter of weeks to tear her apart. I watched as she wasted away, every second stretching to feel like hours, my mother deteriorating right before my eyes. Her very soul slipped through my fingers and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it. No matter how tightly I held her hand, how many tears soaked the pillow on her bedside, how hard I cried out for someone, anyone to spare her, no one did. No one could. And when my eyes no longer held any tears left to shed, I sat uselessly at her bedside and watched the light dim from her eyes. When my throat became so raw that I could no longer hear the sounds of my sobbing and hapless pleas, I heard the last breath as it rattled out of her chest, the sound deafening in its finality. It is that sound…not my pain…that will haunt me for the rest of my days.
“Come on, my Little Spark.” My father’s deep voice is broken and rough as he places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. I’m surprised I can feel it since everywhere else on my body is numb.“It’s just you and me now, kid.”
Tears drip down my face, the sunshine of the late autumn day a mockery of the hurt that surrounds me and the despair that’s trying to pull me under. I want to go where it leads, promising me oblivion, a way out of the agony of losing her.
I hate that term. Like I just put her down and forgot where I left her. There’s no finding her again though, she’s gone forever and nothing can bring her back.
I tear my eyes away from the spot under the old oak tree to look up at my father. Dark circles ring his eyes, and although his suit is wrinkle-free, his hair and light beard neat, the sadness in his blue eyes matches my own. Maybe even surpasses it. He’s just as broken as I am. She was the love of his life and I can’t imagine the agony he must be feeling knowing that she’s gone.
“O–okay, Dad,” I whisper, my voice sounding hollow to my ears like I’ve wandered into a cave and can’t find my way to the light. “Let’s go home.”
I wince, knowing that our small house will never feel like home again without her there to make it bright and cheery. But, just like the world refused to stop spinning when she died, life goes on and at least Dad and I have each other.
We’ll always have each other.
