I feel my body shake as I approach the altar, like every bone in my body is simultaneously breaking, and so is my heart. Every step I take makes me cry a little bit more inside. I step very slowly, taking my time. Slow and steady wins the race, but I don’t feel like much of a winner right now. I gulp as I become alarmingly close to the altar, where all eyes will follow me. I endure my whole body turning to jelly, any little thing could break me into a million pieces. I slump back, cowering to everyone who is waiting for me to speak. The tremendous pressure to mend their broken hearts is too much, knowing that I can’t even heal my own. The altar is upon me and so are the eyes of every person my mom ever loved. I’m at a complete and utter loss of words in front of all these people who cared so deeply for my mom just as much as I did. My body shakes again, this time more vigorously. I feel tears trying to escape, but I won’t let them. I suddenly realize I’ve been silently standing in front of everyone for almost a minute. I hear my mom's voice in my head, loud and clear, telling me, ‘be brave’ and in her honor, I muster up all my courage - and go for it.
“I miss her” I stammer, choking on the words as I admit them. “We all do,” I pause, recollecting where I am going with what I say. I continue to speak from my heart, a weakened, shattered part of me. “That's why we are all here today, because we care so deeply about my mom that we came to honor her even after her passing.” My mouth can only barely pronounce ‘passing’. I think of what to say next and I know exactly what to explain. “And I said, ‘we are all here today, because we care so deeply about my mom’ and I used the word care instead of cared because I truly believe that we all still care about her. I never stopped and I never will. Her death doesn’t change the undying gratitude, care and love I’ve always had for her.” My voice gets faster as I continue. Tears fill my eyes as I go on. “She was one of the kindest people I ever knew. We were all lucky to know her and be a part of her life. She raised me and cared for me all my life,” The tears begin to fall, I feel there are enough to flood the church. Usually, I’d try to hide the tears, bottle them up inside of myself, and be strong. I’m learning that being strong sometimes means letting the sadness out and letting others help me. Since my mom died, I’ve had trouble letting out my emotions because I’m convinced no one will care. She was the person who helped me through tough times, but without her I've felt alone. Standing in front of all these people who love my mom, I slowly gain more comfort and knowledge, and hope that I’ll be able to get through it. So I finish by saying what I think we all need, “I hope we can get through this together, because I know I can’t do it alone.”
I leave the altar slowly, and on my way back to my seat I look up to heaven, where I know my mom is resting peacefully and watching over us. I whisper to her, “I love you with all my heart.”
My husband, Mark, pulls out a casserole from the oven as I sit at the counter, grieving. It’s been a couple days since the funeral and I haven’t stopped crying since. Mark has been great in helping me get through the loss of my mom, I’m convinced I’ll be sad forever though. Mark hands me a plate with a piece of casserole on it. I reach out to grab it, but I feel too weak to hold it for very long. I put it in front of me and wait for Mark to come sit down next to me. When he sits down at the counter with me, he gives me a tight hug. I start to eat my casserole in silence. I’m not in the mood to have a full on conversation, I want to just think for a minute or two. I feel like I had felt when I was a teenager and I didn’t know where life was headed and everything was a mystery. Since my mom died, I’ve been in an endless maze with no exit. I can’t escape it, but I keep looking for a way out anyway. I just get more lost as I go along. I finish the last bite of my casserole, get to my wobbly and unstable legs and place my empty dish in the sink, though still experiencing emptiness within myself. Ignoring Mark, who is still eating his casserole, I retire to the couch in the next room over. He glances my way, just to check in on me.
And that's the last thing I remember when I wake up a couple hours later, still laying on the couch, with Mark (who was watching the TV quietly) right next to me. I groan and shed a couple tears again. Mark realizes I’m awake and helps me up to my feet. We walk back to the kitchen together, hand in hand. I’m relieved to collapse onto the chair at the counter. Mark opens the cabinet behind me and rummages through all the food. Finally, I hear the cabinet close slowly - and I know he has found something. I hear his footsteps creeping up behind me. He sits next to me, holding out a samoa cookie for me. I flash a faint smile and thank him with my eyes. I look at the delicious Girl Scout cookie that I had forgotten we even had. As I examine the cookie to an even higher extent, it seems to be oddly shaped. I start to think I might be going insane. I close my eyes in disbelief. After a few seconds have passed, I open my eyes slowly. I continue to stare at the oddly-shaped samoa in my hand - that is in a heart shape.
I stare right at the samoa for a few seconds in total shock and confusion. I grit my teeth for a moment, I close my eyes and try to shake it off, continuously telling myself it wasn’t real. Hesitantly, I lift the cookie to my mouth and take an immense bite, still pushing away the weird shape the samoa presented to me.
I pop the very last bite of my samoa cookie into my mouth and decide to turn in. I turn my head a little bit to face Mark.
“I’m going to go up to bed. Goodnight Mark” I yawn, tired, drained and worst of all, mournful.
This morning, I wake up to my own snoring. I shift myself to reach my phone on the nightstand next to me. As I’m reading the time off my phone, I comprehend it very slowly - it’s already 11:15 in the morning! I can tell that I’m not fully awake yet, so I’m tempted to go back to sleep. Even though I still feel tired, I know that I need to wake up. Yawning, I heave the covers off of myself and twist my feet off the bed. When I get down from my bed, my feet land in my soft slippers. I reach out to get my phone on the nightstand next to me and put it in my Pajama pocket. After fully getting to my feet, I use all my might and force my arms as wide, then as high as they will reach. I breathe deeply for a second, exhaling a lot of air. I finish my stretching and start the long journey downstairs. I try to avoid all the furniture and stuff. Taking my time and putting in so much effort, I finally reach the staircase. The slippers are the perfect cushion as my foot hits onto the next step. Every step lower I go, the more I want to get back in bed and sleep. I finally take the last step and land on flat ground. Excited for whatever breakfast I can dig up in the kitchen, I scurry off. I scan the kitchen thoroughly, and find something peculiar. Too shaken, I rub my eyes, feeling like I’m in a dream. When I open my eyes, I see the same thing, which I’ve seen before. In the middle of the counter, I see two flower vases, one with lilies in it and the other with a light green flower that I’ve never heard of. The two flower vases with flowers sit right next to each other and two petals, one from each flower, are curved strangely to look like a heart. Recalling last night, I’m becoming suspicious of these hearts I’ve seen, but I know I’m just imagining it. Pushing it out of my mind, I reach for a box of cereal that's next to the creepy heart flowers. The cereal was my childhood favorite - fruity pebbles. After grabbing the rest of the stuff for my cereal, I pour the cereal and the milk. Scoping the cereal to my mouth, I notice a milk spill and make a mental reminder to clean it up after I finish my cereal. I scarf down my bowl of cereal, milk and all, basically inhaling it. While I clear my empty cereal bowl to the dishwasher, I see two little fruity pebbles, one on top of the other, that seemed so familiar. The cereal pieces formed the shape of a heart! I start to freak out. I feel like I’m caught in a weird dream, but I’m not. I thought these are just coincidences, but they’re not. I begin questioning everything. The only thing I do know is that these heart-shaped items are here because of my mom. I’m not sure if these signs will keep appearing or it was just to help me when I need it most. Though, what the hearts have shown me is more significant than how long they will continue to appear. These hearts have assured me that my mom is still a part of my life and that we will always have an undying love in our hearts for each other.
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