"That honestly makes me feel better," I laugh. "So I'm not just being a paranoid freak."
"You are," Andrea interjects. "But so has every other parent since the dawn of time."
"Great," I say sarcastically. "So it won't ever stop, actually."
"The car will get easier," Alan says. "But then it'll be the park. And then school. And then dating. And then college. There's always going to be something new and terrifying—but then you look at your child, and you know that they're worth every sleepless night."
"I get that now," I agree, gaze focused on my sleeping angel. "I don't think I would have gotten it before. Like, why would you sign up for something so hard and scary? But now I can't imagine a life without her. It's amazing how everything changes, just like that."
We settle into comfortable conversation, something we haven't really done since Aaron died. It feels like something started, or rather re-started, in all of us the moment the tiniest Thompson joined us. I often think back to what Jack said months ago, that it's a beautiful and cruel thing to experience grief and joy at the same time.
It's so beautiful to watch Alan and Andrea dote on Erin, to see how much they love her, and how much she loves themback. It's a beautiful thing to be part of this family. There's an immeasurable amount of love between the four of us.
It's devastatingly cruel that there should be five of us.
"The wildflowers have been so lovely this year, don't you think?" Andrea asks cheerfully. "I think it's so nice that they've planted them all over instead of having acres of just grass."
"Sorry, who?" I ask. Somewhere in my thoughts of Aaron I lost track of the conversation.
"The cemetery," she says, looking surprised. "Have you been in the last few weeks? The firewheels are so vibrant, it brings a little brightness to such a sad place."
"No," I say quietly, watching the spot where I'm wringing my hands in my lap. "I actually haven't."
"Oh you'll have to stop by, they're absolutely beautiful."
"No, I mean," I continue, clearing my throat. "I haven't been at all. Not just recently."
I look up at Andrea, her silhouette blurry through the tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry, I know that's awful. I just, I haven't been able to do it. I can't go back there."
"Not that I don't want to," I add quickly when they don't respond. "Of course I want to. It's just…it makes it so much more real, you know?"
"It's not awful, Abby," Alan says kindly. "Of course it's difficult. You've been through so much in the last year."
"We would never be upset with you for the way you need to get through this," Andrea says reassuringly. "You can go in your own time, or not at all, if you don't want to."
"I've actually been thinking a lot about it recently," I admit. "I know it's just some grass and a bit of stone. I know he's not there, not really. But I think I want to bring Erin there to introduce her to dad in some way. I don't want her to miss out on any piece of him just because I'm trying to avoid my own feelings."
"I think that's lovely," Andrea says, smiling somewhat sadly. "And so special."
"Would you," I start hesitantly. "Would you come with us? I think it might be easier, not do to it alone."
"Of course we will," Alan says. "Of course."
"Would you be up for going today?" I ask, chewing on bottom lip. "I think if I give myself too much time to think about it I'll talk myself out of it. And we're already out anyway, it's not like I can avoid getting in the car either way."
"We can absolutely go today," he responds. "We can go right now, if you want."
"I think that would nice," I say, nodding quickly. "While I'm still feeling a little brave."
"You're incredibly brave, Abby," Andrea says, rising to her feet and offering her hand to help me up. "There's never been any question about that."
Alan graciously offers to drive there, and even though my heart rate still skyrockets, it's child's play compared to being behind the wheel. With Erin's tiny hand wrapped around my finger, I wonder how it is that someone so small can give me so much strength.
Before long, we turn onto the dirt road that leads to the cemetery, following the makeshift lanes throughout the plots of gravestones until we reach the section where Aaron is buried. It's been almost a year since I was here last, and I remember thinking that day that I would never come back here. I also remember thinking I would be completely alone for the rest of my life, and the thought strikes me again.
It's amazing how everything changes.
Andrea was right, there are wildflowers blooming everywhere, the abundant life a strange feature in a place that holds so much death. We walk slowly through the aisles of gravestonesuntil we reach the place I've been avoiding, both consciously and subconsciously.
