Blessings

She stands, hands jammed into jacket pockets, at the top of the hill. Cool air kisses her cheeks, drying the tears slowly tracking down to her chin. The chill against her damp skin makes her shiver, but she can’t make herself move. She can’t make herself break her eyes away from the clouds, and the rays of the sun shining through the gaps like the fingers of God.

           “Lia?” she turns. Her fiancé, who had been standing a few feet away to give her some needed space, calls her softly. She knows if she tries to speak the rest of the dam will break, and she’s already too emotionally exhausted. She meets his blue-eyed gaze and dips her head, an invitation, before turning back to gaze upon the endless green fields and wildflowers that spread from the base of the hill. 

           Lia feels as Aaron gently wraps his arms around her from behind. His chin rests perfectly atop her head, his neat stubble scratchy against her hair. She covers his hands with her own where they rest just above her belly. His skin is rough, calloused, but his touch was always gentle. 

           “Sometimes it’s hard,” she speaks past the lump in her throat. “Just looking at the sun – it’s like she’s trying to reach down to me but no matter how hard I run toward the light, it will always be just beyond reach.”

           “I know,” Aaron’s breath is warm against her right ear as he speaks. “She would be so proud of you right now.”

           At this, Lia turns, angry. She’s not angry at Aaron, for always saying the right thing. She’s not angry that he was right. She was angry because she felt like he shouldn’t be right.

           “But do I deserve it?” she asks. Her voice goes up in pitch at the last word. “It’s been almost two years, and this is the first time I’ve come. I’m the only one who had never come. It’s selfish, isn’t it? Childish?”

           Aaron sighs. He hates seeing Lia so torn up at herself just for being human. Grief knew no schedule. Grief had no rules. To him, the fact that she finally came meant that she was ready. Although, how can you ever be ready to be without someone you loved so much? Someone who molded you to be the person you were? 

           “Your family understands,” he murmurs, reaching forward. She lets him draw her forward, his lips pressing against her forehead. The touch sets her tears spilling all over again. She didn’t deserve his sweetness and compassionate understanding. She didn’t deserve him. Sometimes, even as the wedding drew closer, she still couldn’t believe the someone as amazing as he could possibly want to spend the rest of his life with her. To him, she was everything. She was special, and beautiful, and so smart it stunned him. To her, she never believed she was enough – for anyone, even herself.

           Lia disentangles from Aaron’s embrace. Instead of turning back to the fields beyond, however, she starts walking back down the path. They reach the white, picturesque gazebo that stands by the oak tree. Just beyond its wooden benches and hanging flower baskets lays the spot. Aaron hangs back, leaning against the tree trunk to let Lia do what she came to do on her own. He is there to be her support, but he also understood that some things a person ultimately had to move passed by themselves. He watches as her bundled body slowly approaches the stone. Stopping before it, Lia drops gently to her knees, not even feeling the damp ground soak through the knees of her jeans. 

           “April Leigh Grant. 1964-2021. Beloved wife, mother and grandmother.”

           He is just able to discern Lia’s tear-thickened voice as she reads the words. For a while after, she kneels, silent and still. He starts breaking from his post against the tree, after she still remains silent and still after several more minutes, concern gnawing at his heart. He is about half way to where Lia perches on the ground before he hears her speak again, a little stronger this time. Now, he understands, her silent stillness was her gathering herself to say what she needed to say. After all, two years was a long time for a daughter to live without her mother, especially at 26. 

           “I am so sorry it’s taken me so long to come visit,” she begins. “You know I still can barely even say the words? Dead. My mom died. If people talk about you, or I have to tell someone about how I don’t have you by my side at dress fittings and reception consults or when I stupidly fracture my leg stumbling in the driveway – I just trail off. I don’t say the word. But you are. You died. You left. And it still doesn’t feel real sometimes.

           “I have dreams at night that you’re still here, and we are just living our everyday life – like we picked up right where we left off after you went away. Then, I wake up, and it hits all over again that it wasn’t real. But I wanted to come now. I wanted to tell you myself.”

           Now, Lia turns and offers a small, wan smile. She holds out a small, gloved hand and Aaron drops to his knees beside her, fingers intertwined. 

           “I promised you the last time we spoke that you did not have to worry about me, because I finally had someone that I knew would take care of me. I finally found a chance at happiness.”

           Aaron squeezes Lia’s hand, feeling his own eyes starting to smart with moisture. He had only met Lia’s mother a handful of times. It was one of the things he wished he could change about their relationship – namely that he wished they could have met sooner while Lia’s mom was healthier. From the few meetings they had, though, the woman welcomed him like one of her own, and made him feel like he belonged in her home, with her daughter and as a member of her family. He had been accepted, and all he wanted was to make this woman proud and love her daughter with all his heart. He clears his throat.

           “Mrs. Grant,” he says. “I asked Lia to marry me, and she said yes.”

           Beside him, Lia smiles for the first time since they arrived at the cemetery. It lights up her whole face, and he marvels at the way her freckles dust across her nose, a sharp contrast to her milky skin. He squeezes her hand again, and turns back toward the headstone to ask a question.

           “I know I only met you a few times,” he continues. “But I want you to know how much I love Lia. I promise to always take care of her, and encourage her to be the best person possible. I promise to fill her when her heart feels empty, and tether her to Earth when she feels like her mind tries to sweep her away into the clouds. So, I wanted to do the proper thing and ask for your blessing to marry Lia.”

           The ensuing silence is deafening as a gust of wind blows. The last leaves hanging on to the trees around scattered around the cemetery break free of their branches and swirl around like small tornadoes in the air. Then, as quickly as it came, the wind ceases. Warmth spreads across their backs. The sun shines down upon them brighter than a November sun could possibly be. Lia feels it wrap around her, caressing her face and the skin of her neck. Aaron feels it fill him with certainty. 

           “Thank you, Mom,” Lia exhales, and the breath that she had felt like she was holding since her mother passed finally leaves her lungs. 

           Finally, Lia thinks, as the feels her mother’s love radiate down from the heavens, I have reached you.