Stuffing the mug and the scarf in my bag, I looked down at my wide-legged boho-style black pants, white crop top with a black chiffon kimono-style cover, and black boots. I'm a monotone kinda girl, but still a Romani at heart. Knowing my mother, she would still complain about me not wearing any color to celebrate her life. Returning to her room, I snagged a few of her golden jeweled bangles and slipped them on.
Opening her jewelry box, I saw the traditional silver coin necklace and knew she would love it if I wore it for this occasion. I already had rings on all my fingers, so why not go all out? Putting the necklace on, I looked in the mirror and chuckled. I looked blinged out, just like my mom would’ve wanted.
Just as I went to close the box, a bright glint shone, catching my eye in the corner. It was a small silver locket I had never seen my mother wear. Opening it up, there was a picture of a dashing young man. Emotions rolled around in the pit of my stomach.
My mother never talked about my father, telling me he was dead and in the past, so we didn't need to dwell on it. I don't know who this man was, and I don’t have a clue about his side of my DNA, but that would have to be another day's problem.
Remembering what I was set out to do today, I put the locket back, my fingers twitching to take it with me, but I shook my head, pushing it all to the side for another day. Today was about her. Moving like the wind, I grabbed her large cast iron pot, some matches, and some newspapers for kindling. Today was the day I would fulfill my mother's wishes for her soul, let go of the past, and finally begin to heal for the future.
Luck wason my side tonight. It was a clear, starry night with no one in sight at the cemetery. I purposely went in the dead of night and hopped the fence to avoid the prying eyes of people, since what I was doing had to be illegal. Last I checked, starting a fire in a public cemetery was a big no-no.
Crickets chirped as the wind howled, and the bright moonlit rays shined down, causing a glowing mystical effect to blanket the cemetery. Tilting my face up and closing my eyes, I let myself get caught up in feeling those moon-soaked rays. While my mother and I disagreed about how to live our lives, at this moment, I had to admit that there was something in my blood that was called to the moon. It felt magical, even if my mind told me it was impossible. My nerves calmed, and strength filled my heart, pushing me to move forward. To believe, for my mother.
Trudging my way over to her grave with a sack full of stuff, I scanned the area, needing to get this going sooner rather than later. As soon as I got to her burial site, I set my bag down and kneeled at her headstone. My voice cracked, “Hey, Mom, I got your items, and I'm going to follow your instructions, so don't worry,” rubbing my hand on the headstone like she could feel my comfort.
Getting back to work, I took out the iron pan first and winced, whispering to her like she was beside me. “It was the only metal vessel I knew I wouldn't burn a hole through. If I lit the cemetery on fire, that would be very bad.” She loved cooking in this pot and would probably murder me if she knew what I was doing with it.
Chuckling to myself, I pulled out her mug first and a hammer. “You know, Mom, people pay a lot of money to do this kind of stuff in a safe place.” Cocking that hammer back, I looked down at the mug, remembering all of the teas and tonic she put in that cup and gave to me when I was sick or sad. It represented my mom, and I was going to miss it.
Closing my eyes, I let it fly. When the crash sounded, I jerked back, cracking my eyes open to survey the damage. The mug broke perfectly into several large pieces, making it easy to collect and place them at the bottom of the cast iron pan.
Grabbing the scarf, I sniffed it again, rubbing the silk against my skin. So soft, so warm, just like her. Placing the scarf on the broken shards, my fingers scrounged around in my bag, digging for the lighter I knew I had.
“Fucking small little-” I paused as a chill ran down my back. The air around me grew thick. The feel of eyes on me, devouring me, made me itch, and I swiveled around, looking back and forth for its source. Darkness blanketed the cemetery; everything was still quiet. I couldn't hear anything but the rustle of the wind, then a thought hit me.What happened to the crickets?
Looking around again, I found nothing. Goosebumps rose on my arm, and the feeling of being watched didn't disappear. Shaking my head, I pressed on.I just need to hurry up and get this done. It's all in my head.
I dug deeper, fingers searching until they circled the lighter. “Got ya!”
With the lighter in hand, I closed my eyes briefly, thinking about my mom. The way her dark tresses had these perfect big curls. When she was making something, how fragrant and homey it felt. I pictured holding her face and telling her I loved her. Even when we disagreed about lifestyle and overall beliefs, she was all I had, my mom. The one who gave up everything for me. The only person who would go to the ends of the earth for me, face anything for me.
Thinking about her strength and how she always lit up a room when she entered it, I opened my eyes and lit the scarf. Fire crawled against the fabric at a rapid speed. My eyes glued to the red and orange flame that devoured the silk in an almost hypnotic state.
Large, wet tears rolled down my face at the thought that she was gone, hitting me in the gut as I burned her items. Things that she believed kept her soul tethered to this world. It's why I had to burn them so that her soul could pass on to the otherworld safely. And for a second, it felt like I was doing just that.
The wind licked at the flames, causing them to crackle and flicker, and something inside me shifted. Air swirled around me, the moon's magical rays sunk into my skin, and my rational thought left my mind. Before I realized it, my body moved from left to right, swaying with the wind. Words that my mother sang to me as a child came rushing forward.
Underneath the midnight stars, where the shadows gently play,
I gather close to my little one, and keep the fears away.
Oh, we’re running from the storm, where the shadows used to play,
But we’ll find our place in the moonlight, in the night’s gentle sway.
The past is like a shadow, it lingers in the night,
But I’ll shield you from its darkness, with my love as our light.
Through the hills and valleys, where the wildflowers grow,
We’ll forge a path together, where the gentle breezes blow.
In the safety of our journey, with your hand held tight in mine,
I’ll weave a spell of stardust, to keep the shadows confined.
We’ll travel through the twilight, within the sunlight’s gentle beam,
