Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As odd as it is to say, death has never really scared me.
I was introduced to it at a young age. As I grew older it seemed to lerk around the corner. Now as I sat, kneeling in front of two headstones a feeling of calmness washed over me.
William Earl Anderson Beloved Father and Husband 1860-1907
Abagail Rose Anderson Beloved Mother and Wife 1865-1914
I tried to prepare myself as much I could before she passed. We all knew it was inevitable. But even knowing that, the everlasting feeling of heartbreak comes crashing on you the moment it does. The tears I cried would probably make the kutte overflow. But that was all done in private. Not even in front of Michael.
It had been a week or so after the incident that lead to Grace's death. I haven't told anyone besides Polly and now the boy waiting for me by the car. But I'm sure they're all aware. They know everything about everything. They have to.
Pol keeps trying to convince me to sell the shop. Put money in my pockets and not have to have it as a reminder. But the idea of selling what my mother worked so hard for almost makes my heart stop.
My hand swept over the top of the engraved stone to rid it of the dirt buildup. I had already placed the bouquets of Lillies in front of the pair. Soon enough they'll be one with the ground.
I tried my best to sneak away here about once a month. Just to talk to them. But today it seemed like no words could be spilled from my lips. I think of how ashamed they would be of how I earn my keep now a days. I haven't picked up a needle in almost a year. Before the tear can escape I blink it away.
Raising up from my knees I brush away the light dirt and tug my coat closer to my body. The winter air having surrounded me and come up from the ground. Kissing my hand I run it over they're names with one last look.
"Until next time."
The ground is silent beneath my boots. Frozen solid dirt. Thinking what lies under this dirt makes me shutter. Not due to fear but due to the unknown. Who are they? How'd they go? Why did it happen? Those thoughts could drive a person mad.
