Memories

Twelve

Love is keeping the promises even after she's gone.

"You seem to be handling housework better than I do, Dad." Alicia smiled after taking a look around. "It seems like I worried for nothing."

I chuckled. "Thanks to your Mom," she didn't seem to get it, so I added, "I learnt from her."

Alicia nodded and looked straight at me with eyes a little softened, "But are you sure you're alright living alone here?" she said, "Erik and I are more than happy to let you crash at our apartments."

In the span of a year, they both moved into new places for work. At least, I hope they weren't trying to run away.

It was honestly a little hard to get used to the silence after they were gone, but I came to realize that they eventually had to start their own life as well. Without them around, I was able to focus more on you too.

I figured out a lot of things, and I thought I grew a little. I would call Tom occasionally just for a talk, or I'd spend the whole day just watching you, doing what you did. Calling all these boring might not be wrong, but I couldn't think of another way to live the rest of my life better.

It was ironic. Life was much more meaningful after you left. I had a reason to wake up, and looked forward to every single day in our future.

You gave me a reason to live with your death.

"I'm sure."

She held my gaze for just a little longer before letting out a soft sigh, "Okay then. But don't you cast this matter aside. And if you feel like it, just tell us anytime."

I nodded, unable to contain the smile from gracing my face as wrinkles showed up more prominently at the corner of my lips.

Dear, we are old now. But our children are growing up so fast, so well. I can't help but feel happy. If you were still here, you would still worry yourself to death, wouldn't you?

"Erik texted me saying he will reach in a couple of minutes." Alicia stared at her phone and read aloud from it.

"Let's hope he does. It's getting a little later than we planned."

Fortunately, he did show up in less than ten minutes. He appeared; clad in black with a bouquet of camellia flowers in his hand, vibrantly bright as they contrasted his suit. Looking a little out of breath -- most probably from running here -- he said, "Sorry I'm late."

"It's fine, let's get going now."

They made their way out first, as I followed closely behind. I slowed down a little and turned to see you standing in the kitchen; my heart a little heavier than usual.

"I'll be back, dear."

We left the house, all clad in black, and headed to where you were.

*

Erik placed the bouquet of camellia flowers wrapped in white ribbon in front of the gravestone. The rain hit the flowers relentlessly, causing them to become damper and more battered as every second passed.

We took turns spending some time alone in front of your grave, giving the others some privacy by standing a few meters away.

I was first.

Stepping on the damp, grassy and muddy ground, I stared right ahead. It was raining, shards of raindrops piercing the sky and hitting the ground.

The coldness seeped into my skin, the silence oddly not out of place.

It had been exactly one year.

So many things had happened, and as cliché as it sound, it honestly didn't felt that long.