The day was bright and beautiful, sun shining, warm air.
She stared down at the memorial marker of her grandfather, murmuring little phrases, how she missed him, how she loves him, wishes he were still here. He eased his hand into hers, that little symbol of affection a signal that she was alright, and safe. She squeezed his hand tighter and tighter, until her body began to shake. Soon, she couldn't keep the flood of tears at bay any longer, and she collapsed to her knees over the granite monument, bracing herself with her free hand. He descended with her, never letting go of her hand. As she cried, the tears landed over her grandfather's name, a testament to her never-ceasing love for who he was, and his part in her life. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as her chest heaved and her breathing became laboured. She wanted to bring him here; let him meet the man she would love to have been able to introduce in person. The one man aside from the one by her side whom she'd loved unconditionally, without pause or doubt. Any spectator would call this visit eerie, wondering why the hell she'd bring him to a cemetery, to visit what remained on earth of a man who'd died a year ago. But to him, it was another bond forming. To see her, at this incredibly vulnerable moment, in so heart-wrenching a place, and know that she trusted him enough to ask him here. He never would have said no. Not to her.
Poindextra Community Member 
|
|
