When we stepped out, the breeze was soft and warm,rustling the grass. The scent of wildflowers and morning sun hung in the air. I would have thought that coming back here, my heart would be heavy with grief. Instead, a sense of peace washed over me.
Side by side, we walked through the neat rows of headstones. Maxim’s hand stayed in mine the whole way, his thumb stroking slow arcs against my skin.
We reached the gravesite.
My mom’s name, etched into smooth granite. Familiar. Comforting in its own quiet way.
And beside hers, the smaller stone. My dad’s urn had been buried there two months ago, after I was discharged from the hospital. Maxim and I had chosen the words on the plaque together. Still, seeing it againtoday, hit differently.
Maxim didn’t speak but let me stand there with it.
“Hey, Mom… Dad, I’m back,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath in the wind. I didn’t believe they could hear me, but it was comforting to let out what was inside my heart. “You have no idea how much I miss you. At least you have each other now, and I’m not alone.” I smiled at Maxim, squeezing his hand. “I’m really happy. The happiest I’ve ever been. I know I may not be what you wanted me to be, but I hope you’ll still be proud of me.”
Tears filled my eyes again, but they were bittersweet ones. Happiness mingled with sorrow in the most intense way. Sometimes it was hard to appreciate the magnitude of my current happiness without mourning what I'd lost, but it was becoming easier, especially with the closure I had.
Maxim stepped closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as if trying to shield me from the past heartaches that seemed to hang heavier in the cemetery air. I turned to him, stood on the tip of my toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I didn’t realize I needed this.”
He squeezed my waist. “As long as I’m able, I’ll bring you every birthday, if you want.”
I nodded. I wanted that very much. More than an expensive bracelet or a fancy sports car.
We stood there for a long while, not speaking. The wind moved softly around us, the leaves rustling like whispers.
I didn’t feel heavy. I didn’t feel hollow.
For the first time, this day didn’t feel like a scar.
It felt like a promise.
A vow.
Not the kind spoken once and forgotten. But the kind you live out in pancakes and anklets with trackers in them and long drives to say hello to ghosts.
