Heartbreaker

F O R T Y S I X

I was hoping today wouldn't be the case.

My eyes burn into her name once I arrive. I let out a shaky breath, staring down at the grave below me.

Sarah Grace Black
A loving mother and wife.
June 18, 1960 - December 7th 2000

I let out a sigh as I continue to stare down at her name. She was right here. For the first time in a very long time, she was right in front of me.

"Hi," I whisper softly. "I'm sorry I haven't visited recently. I don't have an excuse, other than the fact that I couldn't. It hurt too much for me to come here again."

My eyes dance over the graves next to hers, noticing that there were bouquets of flowers resting against them. Along with a candle or two.

Well now I felt like a shit kid.

"I'll bring you flowers the next time I'm here," I explain to her, like she was standing in front of me, "I promise that'll be soon. It took a lot for me to walk over here, so, I'm sure it'll get easier the next time I try."

I glance over at the cars, to see that Paul was talking to Jake and my dad. They were the only two cars left.

"Harry Clearwater has passed on," I explain, "His funeral was today. That's, why I'm here."

I wanted to sit down, on the wet grass in front of her. And just stay a while. It felt therapeutic to talk to her, I honestly wasn't sure why I didn't come here more often. I was always so scared that it would make me more upset. But it honestly didn't.

"I miss you," I tell her, like she could hear me. "I think of you every day. I see you in the flowers outside our house, or sometimes even in the kitchen when it's my turn to cook. It's like you're still there, wearing your apron. The house still holds your memory in it even though you're gone."

I glance up again, watching the men that worked for the grave yard slowly lower Harry's coffin into the ground. It felt like a gut punch, and I realized that I should probably go. The rain came down harder on me suddenly as I looked back at my mom's name.

"I love you mom," I tell her. "I'll come back soon, I promise."

I walk back toward the pavement where the boys were standing. Feeling the wind pick up, and the rain coming to a halt for a moment. For some reason, that felt like her. She knew I was here, visiting her grave. I could feel it.

Even though the rain stopped, Paul still greets me with an umbrella, shielding me from the water the was dripping from the sky. His arm touches my side, telling me that he was here without saying anything.

"Are you okay sweetheart?" My dad asks.

"Yeah I'm okay," I tell him, "It was nice, I haven't gone in a while."

"Are you sure?" He asks, "Because last time you were pretty upset."

Last time I saw her grave was at the funeral, so yeah, I was pretty upset.

"I'm okay Dad," I reassure him. "It was really nice to be there. I'm going to start going more often."

"Good. You should, I try to stop by every once in a while," He explains, which I never know he did. I wonder who drove him, because it wasn't us.