Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I finished pulling her hair back and then stood behind her, with my hands on the sides of her shoulders. “How’s this?”
Nova nodded and turned side to side. “I love it.” She looked at me through the mirror again.
“It’s okay to be sad, Nova. I’m sad all the time because I miss your mom, but then I remember I have you and Cutter. Being here with you both makes me feel so much better because you’re a part of her. I know I’m not the same as your mom, but when you’re feeling sad, know that I am too.”
Nova turned and wrapped her arms around me. I kissed the top of her head. “I miss her so much.”
“I know, sweetie. Me too.” There wasn’t anything else I could say. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her everything would be okay. I didn’t know if it would. There was a hole in my heart, a part of me missing, and no amount of therapy or time would fill it.
Nova looked up at me, her watery hazel eyes matching those of her mother. “Can Mommy see me?”
This was the one lie I would tell every single time. I nodded. “Yeah, she can. Even though her body isn’t here, her spirit is. She wouldn’t want to miss any part of you growing up.”
“I just want to hug her one more time.”
“Me too. I know I’m not the same, but I do give pretty good hugs.”
I waited a beat before holding my arms out. She fell into them, and I squeezed her lovingly with all my might. I thought Cutter would be the one who’d fall apart first. I never thought it would be Nova.
Cutter walked by and stopped at the door. “Lovefest?”
I held my arm out for him and brought him into our fold. “We’re having a moment.”
“I can use a moment too,” he said as his strong arm wrapped around my waist.
The three of us stayed like this for what felt like an hour. While we had somewhere important to be, Miri would be okay with us delaying our arrival.
We freshened up and then piled in the car, with Cutter driving.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
He nodded. I couldn’t wait for him to take his driver’s test. We’d worked hard on all the fundamentals, and he was turning out to be an excellent driver. Of course I worried. There were rules in place, but I was once a teenager and shunned rules. I used to think they didn’t apply to me and broke them all the time. Consequences be damned. I wasn’t naive in thinking Cutter wouldn’t break the rules. It was a rite of passage. I just had to be prepared for it.
There were quite a few cars at the cemetery. I directed Cutter on where to go and reminded him to keep the speed down. With people walking around, I didn’t want someone to dart out in front of him and him not be able to stop in time.
The cemetery was tranquil. The company that owned it had put a lot of thought into making it a peaceful place for family and friends to come visit. Tucked away from any traffic and shrouded by tall shrubs for privacy, the space had a welcoming feel. Death surrounded you there, but it was hard to be sad when there was a bubbling fountain, koi fish, ornamental flowers, and benches to sit on.
Cutter parked along the grassy edge. We held hands while we walked along the path until Miri’s resting space came into view. The kids had picked her marker and the wording.
We stood there, staring down at the bronze plaque covering Miri’s final resting spot. The design had been done flawlessly, and I couldn’t have been prouder.
“Wow, I never thought I’d see myself like this,” Cutter said as we looked at the raised etching of him, Miri, and Nova. It was one of the last photos of them all together. I had taken it at Christmas, long before we knew she was dying.
“We look funny,” Nova said.
“I think you guys look perfect.”
Next to the etching was Miri’s name, her date of birth, and the date her body had given out on her. The words under all of that were what choked me up the most: “Mommy and best friend.”
The craftsman who’d made the plaque was a bit surprised when we didn’t go with the standard “daughter,” “mother,” “aunt,” and whatever else others used. The two titles we chose were perfect for our Miri.
“What do we do with the flowers we brought last week?”
“We’re going to put them on someone else’s grave. Give them a little bit of our happy.”
Cutter didn’t hesitate. He took the flowers from the metal vase and carried them to two other markers, splitting them up. “Next week, we’ll have to remember who I gave them to, so I pick someone different next time.”