twenty-five

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Leo

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Leo

When I arrive home from work, Kit and Aunty Tenille are nowhere to be seen, and I have to search the house a fair bit in order to realize that Mom is probably outside at the old tree swing. Ever since she arrived, she's been going out there a lot. I'm assuming it holds some kind of connection to my dad, but I've been too afraid to ask, worried that I'll upset her. Mom is usually extraordinarily strong when it comes to discussing Dad, but I think being in Whistler makes it tougher for her. This place holds a lot of memories, so I can't blame her.

When I head outside, two glasses of ice-cold lemonade in my hands, the sun is just beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting an orangish glow across the dimming sky. The grass beneath my bare feet is slightly damp from the sprinkler and I can feel little specks of dirt between my toes, but I enjoy that feeling. There's just something about walking barefoot on the grass that makes me feel young and free.

"How long have you been out here?" I ask once I'm within hearing range.

Mom looks over her shoulder, smiling softly at me. "A few minutes," she replies, glancing up at the stubborn maple tree. I hold out the lemonade to her and she takes it, thanking me. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," she continues, her voice hoarse. "I never thought I'd come back to this place."

I shoot her a weak smile. No matter how hard I try to understand what my mom is going through, what she's thinking, or how she's feeling, I can't. I did lose someone important to me, but I don't have the same type of connection she does. The very foundation of this town doesn't hold an excess amount of meaning to me. Not yet, anyway.

"It's difficult," she sniffles.

Hesitantly, I rest a hand on Mom's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. It's the best I can do at this moment to tell her I'm here for her. 

"I'm sorry," Mom says, wiping her tears away. "I've learned how to live without him, to be the best Mom I can possibly be and continue to live my life, but ever since you graduated high school, things have been harder. Leo, your dad would have loved to be here, to see you graduate, to grow up. I just...I just hate that the world had to take someone like him away and make him miss out on all this, on life with his own son. I miss Leon every day, but I'm more upset because of what was taken away from him not because of my own feelings." Mom pauses and looks at me. "Does that make sense?"

I look away, my own eyes burning, and take a sip of my lemonade. "It makes perfect sense," I reply. This is the exact reason I'm completing Dad's bucket list. He lost a lot of opportunities in his life, a lot of experiences. It's been a rough journey for me, in some respect, and an even rougher journey for Mom, Grandpa, Aunty Tenille, and Kit, but I feel more terrible for my dad and all the things he's missed out on. The "what could have beens" are what can consume you.

Mom and I sit here in silence for several minutes, staring out at the land before us; the vast fields and the forest that outlines it, the snow-capped mountains, and the sunset sky. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Mom takes a sip of her lemonade. The tears have stopped now, but she continues to trail her fingers across the rubber of the tire swing, her gaze locked on nothing but memories.

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