bestie,

Literary (Submission): Mausoleum

1/20/2014 08:05:00 PM Media Center 0 Comments

I’m a few kilometers from the cemetery, but I already feel the dread. I remember everything that has happened these past few days in the hospital and my heart breaks.

These are the times when I wish I were a child again. To feel your soft, wrinkly hand holding mine in earnest. As I looked up to you, I always saw a smile on your face, despite the cancer in your heart.

I enter the gate of the cemetery and continue my way to the memorial garden. I didn’t even have to think as I drive to the family mausoleum, for I have memorized every turn.

Upon reaching the mausoleum, I let my car screech to a halt. I sigh and touch my forehead to the steering wheel. I close my eyes and, unwillingly, I remember the day you left us for Him.

It was a chilly September morning, and all I could see was black. Black hats, black gloves, black dresses and pants. I was so young then, only a few years into my teens. I refused to go near your casket. To go near it would mean I’m accepting the fact that I will never again sit by your rocking chair and tell you about my day. I will never again smell my favorite dishes cooking in the kitchen of our humble abode. I will never again see you smiling at me despite the mistakes I make.

I knew, though. I knew I had to accept the fact that you were gone. That all I will ever see of you now was a name on a slab of stone with words written out of hurt, despair. Confusion.

And so I force myself to look at you.

I couldn’t help the sob that I let out. Immediately, the tears started to fall down my cheeks. I was silenced. You looked so serene. As if no hardship has ever fallen between your palms. In that moment, I knew. I knew I had to let you go, grandmum.

I let my tears fall freely, and it feels good. For once in so many months, I am at peace. I’m finally consoled with the fact that you are happy. With that, I smile forcefully and let go of my tight hold on the edge of your casket.

I bring myself back to the present and open my car door. I look around and see that no regret should be felt regarding the amount I paid to have the mausoleum maintained.

The key clicks as I put it into the lock and the sound reverberates through my heart. I try to smile, but I can’t help the tears that gather under my cheeks and pour down the sides of my face.

I see your gravestone, and I can’t help the sob that escapes me.

Jenny Aster
December 12, 1945 - January 3, 2012
Mother. Grandmother. Sister. Best friend.
Your memory stays in our hearts forevermore.

As I have, every single time I visit you, I cry my heart out. I look to the other side of the lonely building, and see a newly-dug space. Then, I fall to the ground. Hard.

Because once again I will witness another mother leaving me for Him. / by Bestie

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