As I put these flowers at her headstone, I can’t help but let the weight of sorrow dampen my eyes. Not because my Grandma passed, but because I don’t think I can keep my promise to her.
“I can’t do this alone.”
Tonight, the rain feels heavier than usual. Almost too heavy to bear. The night feels quieter than usual, too. A silence that’s so loud, but still, not nearly as loud as the thoughts that haunt me.
The mud, heavy and wet, clings to my knees, making it harder to lift myself. Though, it’s already hard enough. “I love you,” I say with my final glance.
The walk back home is lonely and all I have is memories to keep me company. She was the only person to ever care about me — my parents didn’t want me, but she did. She stayed up late every night, after working two to three jobs, studying my books so she could help me with any homework or exams. She taught me how to dream and believe in myself. But most importantly, she taught me what it felt like to be loved and wanted.
“Fuck!”
I can’t stop crying. I’m frustrated. I’m hurt. I’m sad. But more than anything, I want to join her. In this moment of distraction, I slip and start to fall. And as I hold on, clinging to this slippery bridge, watching the violent river under me, peace washes over me as I relax my fingers. And I smile as I fall.
But my smile soon drowns in the water. It’s so cold, and I can feel my body going into shock. Catching my breath is just as impossible as resisting the strength of the current. The water violently bobs me up and down as I swallow more each time. And the rocks, cut at every part of me — ripping my clothes. I finally get to join her.
As my eyes start to shut, and I gladly accept my fate, a bird catches my attention. One that I’ve never seen in person, but one I’ve heard so much about — a Kingfisher. Grandma’s favorite bird.
It lands on a branch that reaches far into the river. And I can’t help but swim towards it. Somehow, I manage to get there, too. And as my fingers squeeze into the damp wood, my eyes never leave the bird.
After an eternity of struggling, I manage to pull myself out. But my eyelids are so heavy and I can’t stop coughing up water. And I–
I can feel a gentle press to my chest. As I open my eyes, I see the Kingfisher sitting there. But it’s no longer nighttime, and the storm is long gone. How long I’ve been unconscious only Only God knows.
As I lean forward to get up, it flies to a nearby tree. Why’d I do that? I can’t figure out why, at the last second, I desperately wanted to live. There’s barely any air in my chest or any tears left in my eyes. Just a deep sadness.
I promised my grandma I’d live for her. Or rather, she made me promise that the moment she found out she was sick. But who knew the promise would be so hard to keep. Who knew this pain would be too impossible to bear.
The sun is bright and its warmth offers some comfort. But, I’d trade it for her embrace. I’d trade it all. As I stand, I stare at the bird who stares back at me. And I can’t shake the feeling that it’s judging me.
I dust myself off and quietly head home. As I walk inside, I don’t bother to close the door behind me. Instead, I walk to the kitchen. I open up the cabinet. And I grab her pills. The same pills she stubbornly wouldn’t take. The same pills I will, gladly.
I won’t fail again. As I unscrew the bottle I take one final walk through the house, staring at the photos that decorate every inch of our walls. That woman was a fighter her whole life. I just wish she knew when to stop.
I punch the wall, the blood from my fist just another decoration. She left me this house, paid off. She left me her car, paid off. She left…me. She left me!
I wanted her to be here when I became a lawyer, but I couldn’t pass the bar. And if she had lived three more days, she would’ve been next to me when I found out I failed again. That again, her sacrifices were in vain.
I walk to the bathroom and stare at myself. My eyes are red and puffy. My clothes, still damp. My hair a mess. My hands shaky as I slowly lift the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back. I know I’m being selfish, but I’ve made up my mind.
As two pills fall into my mouth the rest drop to the floor. Searching the bathroom to find what hit my hand, I notice the Kingfisher on the sink, looking up at me.
“What do you want!” I scream, my hands waving it away. “Get out of here! Go! Shoo!” But it doesn’t move away from me, just closer. “What do you want from me?” I drop to my knees. “W-why do you keep interfering?”
Outside I can hear the rain again — answering my sadness when the bird doesn’t.
I lean my back to the wall, staring at it. And the longer I do, oddly, the more peace I feel. I pull myself from the ground and look in the mirror. It flies onto my shoulder. So beautiful. For a moment I notice a smile on my face. Everyone always tells me how much she and I look alike. This is the first time I think I can see it.
Suddenly the bird sings, sending goosebumps throughout my body. Not because it startles me, but because it sings just like her. And I can hear the lyrics so clearly.
I’m ashamed. How dare I give up when she never did. “I’m sorry.”
The bird flies from my shoulder and straight into the mirror. I think I’m losing my mind. And the person in the mirror staring back at me is no longer myself — it’s her.
“Baby,” she says. “You’ve been taking it harder than I thought you would. I’m so sorry I left you, I hope you can forgive this old woman.”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me!” How crazy am I, talking to a mirror. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about! You gave so much for me and I continued to fail you. I-I’m sorry. I promise. I promise one day I’ll make you proud.”
“Baby,” she smiles. “I’ve been proud.” Her words speak to my soul and I can breathe again for the first time in a long time. “You’ve come a long way. And though your path may be full of obstacles, remember, every storm runs out of rain, and I’d bet my life you can make it.” Her reflection transforms into the Kingfisher. “Plus you have to keep your promise to me.” Then flies from the mirror, out the door, and disappears into the sky.
Donny
LOVE THIS!