Letting Someone Go

Lily rests her elbow against the van door, her chin in her palm as she watches the scenery streak by outside the window. Grassy fields rippling in the wind, populated by sparse trees and livestock. The bright blue sky stretching above, dotted with fluffy clouds like the ones she used to make shapes out of as a kid.

 Today, her family is going to the lake for the first time. She’d helped her mom pack a picnic basket and a bag of spare clothes, in case anyone gets messy; but everyone knows this trip isn’t just for fun.

 Lily’s gaze slides to the front passenger seat where her mom is sitting. There’s a blue box in her lap, painted with pictures of flowers; morning glories, violets, the lilies for which she is named. A box of kleenex rests on top of it, because her mom hasn’t been able to stop crying since they all piled in the van this morning.

 She tries to hide it, sniffling quietly, only looking back to check on Lily and her siblings when she thinks they won’t notice. But her dark eyes are red and watery every time.

 Lily doesn’t miss the way her dad’s trying to hide his sadness, too. Whenever she meets his eyes in the rear-view mirror and he smiles at her, it’s never quite right. His eyes don’t crinkle the way they usually do when he smiles; and he hasn’t let go of her mom’s hand since they hit the road.

 Lily chews her bottom lip, her eyes drifting back to the box in her mom’s lap — then her nine-year-old sister is reaching over to yank on her arm, complaining of being bored. Lily sighs, suggesting a game of “I Spy” even though she doesn’t feel like playing.

 Iris quickly agrees, humming under her breath as she tries to decide what to Spy. Meanwhile, Lily turns back to her window, watching the sky again. She thinks about the box in her mom’s lap, her heart clenching. She remembers the first time she saw it. The box is usually on the top shelf of her mom and dad’s closet. Her mom and dad brought it home just a few months before her baby brother was born. Both parents had been crying then, though at the time she hadn’t understood why. It’s been… she’s twelve now, so… seven years, since that day.

 Unlike Iris, kicking her legs gently in her bucket seat while she hums, Lily understands the significance of their family trip. Their parents are taking them to the lake to spread their grandpa’s ashes.

 “I Spy with my little eye… something…” Iris scrunches her face, squinting out the window. “Green!”

 “Is it grass?” Lily guesses.

 Iris pouts immediately. “Dangit. I thought you wouldn’t guess, ‘cause it’s so obvious.”

 “Nice try.” Lily looks over with a smile, reaching out to ruffle her sister’s hair, to Iris’ indignance. Lily eyes her sister’s sparkly blue shoes. “I Spy with my little eye something… blue.”

 “The sky?” Iris kicks her feet eagerly. “Is it the sky?”

 “Nope.” Lily smiles, albeit half-heartedly at her sister. “Try again.”

 Her gaze travels away from her sister’s face, back to the blue box. She ignores Iris’ muttering, the sounds of Rose and Forrest beginning to argue from the backseat. She doesn’t understand why her parents want to go spread her grandpa’s ashes. Why not keep them? Isn’t that why they never buried him in the first place, so grandpa could be with them forever?

 “I need a hint, Lily! I can’t figure it out.” Iris complains, interrupting her sister’s thoughts.

 “It’s in the car with us.”

 Iris’ chocolate brown eyes sweep over the interior of the van. She lists off everything she can see that’s blue, becoming more frustrated by the minute.

 Lily rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at her lips as she tells Iris, “Look down.”

 “My shoes?” Iris’ eyes get wide, as if there’s some prize at stake if she gets the answer wrong.

 “Yes.” Lily answers as patiently as she can bring herself to — which isn’t very patient, if the way Iris gives her the stink eye is any clue.

 Eventually, Iris gets bored of the game and turns in her seat to talk to Rose, their eleven-year-old sister.

 Before they get to the lake, they make a stop at a gas station. Their dad pulls in to get gas while their mom takes Iris and Forrest inside to use the bathroom. Lily chews her bottom lip, glancing at the box, delicately placed in the passenger seat. She eyes it for a minute, her stomach clenching as she works up the courage to ask her dad about it.

 Cautiously, she unbuckles and stands, bending at the waist to avoid bumping her head on the ceiling. Rose twitches in her sleep as Lily shuffles around Iris’ folded seat, accidentally kicking her napping sister’s foot.

 Lily pokes her head out of the open sliding door to see her dad.

 He’s leaning against the van, half-watching the pump, half-watching the gas station door for her mom to come back out. He notices her peering at him from the corner of his eye. “What’re you doing, Lil?”

 Lily smiles sheepishly, lowering herself down to sit in the doorway. “Just seein’ how it’s goin’.”

   “Well, in that case.” Her dad replaces the pump and gets his wallet out to pay for the gas. “It’s goin’ as good as it can be. Now, what do you really want?”

 “What? I can’t just check on my dad?” Lily tries to feign hurt, but it falls flat. She looks down at her feet when he gives her a doubtful look. “Can I ask you something?”

 “You just did.”

 “Dad.”

 “I’m listening.”

 “Why are… why are we taking grandpa’s ashes to the lake?” Lily’s stomach clenches again as she forces the words out. This is her only chance to ask. Her mom would be back soon; and Lily doesn’t want to make her mother more upset.

 Her dad pauses, staring at the screen on the pump. He’s jarred into moving again when the machine makes noise and spits out a receipt at him. He tucks the paper into his wallet, glancing at her beneath a furrowed brow. “Well, honey…”

 He sighs, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. He walks over to the open door, gesturing for her to move her feet. She straightens up as he takes a seat next to her, sensing his somber mood.

 “When people are cremated, they usually leave instructions about whether they want their ashes spread somewhere beautiful. Or somewhere they really liked when they were alive. It’s a way to honor their memory.” Her dad explains gently, “Your grandpa told your mama he wanted her to find someplace like that after he died.”

 “But why? It’s been so long since grandpa died.” Lily frowns. Even though she hadn’t known her grandfather long, she remembers him like she’d just seen him yesterday. The smoky scent he always carried with him, his bright smile, the way he laughed.

 “Well, Lil,” Her dad pauses again, his brow creasing further, “It’s not that simple. When grandpa died, your mama wasn’t ready to let him go just yet."

 “And now she is?”

 “Yup. That’s why we’re going to the lake. Your grandpa used to take mama there all the time when she was a kid. It’s special to them.”

 Lily listens quietly, a knot forming in her chest as she tries to imagine herself in her mom’s shoes. If it was her dad, she doesn’t think she could let him go. She doesn’t want to think about saying goodbye to either of her parents like that. Ever.

 At that moment, her mom and siblings exit the gas station, carrying plastic bags. Lily silently moves back to her seat while everyone loads up. Her mom passes out snacks and sodas to all of them, but Lily hardly touches hers. She doesn’t stop thinking about the conversation with her dad for the rest of the ride, missing the whispered words and looks exchanged between her parents in the meantime.

 The open, grass fields on either side of them slowly fall away, turning into dense woodland. They turn off the paved road onto a dirt one, following it through the trees, catching little glimpses of the lake on the other side. They follow a bend in the road, breaking free of the woods as the lake comes into full view.

 Lily gasps in wonderment right along with her siblings. She’s never seen such a large body of water before. It’s the deepest blue she’s ever seen, shimmering brightly in the sun. She sees waves rippling across its surface as they drive down to a small, dirt and gravel parking lot near the shore.

 Everyone starts to pile out as the van parks. Lily moves slower than her siblings, dragging her feet on purpose.

 “Lily, can I talk to you for a sec?” Her mom turns in her seat, watching Lily closely while the other kids exit the van with their dad.

 Lily sinks back into her seat, nodding slowly, her brows furrowing. “Sure.”

 Her mom joins Lily in the middle seat, yet again leaving the blue box up front. She smiles tiredly at her daughter. “Your dad told me what you talked about at the gas station.”

 “Yeah?” Lily digs her fingers into her sides, looking anywhere but at her mom’s reddened, chocolate eyes.

 “It’s okay to be sad about it.” Her mom reaches out to stroke Lily’s cheek.

 Lily bites her lip, her eyes burning, trying not to cry. All the tears and sorrow she’s been trying to hold back spring to her eyes anyway, running in rivulets down her cheeks to drip on her shirt. Her shoulders start to shake as her mom draws her close, wrapping her arms around her daughter.

 “I jus- just wish we didn’t have to say goodbye. I wish- I wish he- he was still here.”

 “Oh, baby…” Her mom rocks them gently back and forth, stroking her daughter’s hair. “This isn’t goodbye forever. He’s still here with us, just in a different way. As long as we remember him, he’ll never really be gone.”

 “Then- why are we spreading his ashes? Don’t you wanna keep him with you?” Lily sniffles, swiping roughly at her cheeks.

 “Of course I do, baby.” Her mom pulls back from the hug, cupping Lily’s cheek with her hand. She gently wipes away the tears streaking down her daughter’s face, smiling sadly. “But this is what he would have wanted. He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He would’ve wanted to be part of the lake, so every time we come here, he can be with us.”

 “Will I have to do that when you and dad die?” Lily sniffles again, the thought bringing a fresh wave of tears.

 Her mom looks toward the ceiling, a tear slipping from her eye. “Someday, when we’re really, really old and you’re really old,” She pokes Lily in the shoulder gently, “you’ll have to do something like this. But it won’t be goodbye forever. Just like grandpa, we’ll always be with you.”

 Lily nods, hugging her mom tightly again. She wishes that her family could just stay together forever. But she knows her mom is right. Someday, she’ll have to say goodbye. Until then… she’ll make the most of every moment she has with her parents.

 A few minutes later, Lily and her mom walk down to the lake together, hand in hand. The blue box is tucked tightly under Lily’s other arm.

 Lily stands next to her little brother, holding his hand while they watch their mother spread their grandpa’s ashes over the lake. Rose and Iris are standing on either side of their dad, his arms wrapped around their shoulders.

 The lake water sparkles, waves lapping at the bank as if reaching up to meet them. Forrest squeezes his sister’s hand — the seven-year-old quiet and subdued, sensing his family’s somber mood even if he doesn’t quite understand it — and Lily feels a weight lift off her chest that she hadn’t realized was there.

 Her gaze sweeps out over the water, watching as her grandpa’s ashes are swept out into the lake. Forever one with the water.

 For a second, she feels pressure on her shoulder. The phantom press of a hand, squeezing softly, then letting go.