There were dozens of vases filled with dead browning flowers littering the floor of the kitchen. The morning light from the over-sized window cast an unsettling glow into the small room—making it that much harder to stand being in there for more than a few minutes. As I walked over to the sink I half expected to see my uncle standing by the stove, cooking up the same breakfast he made day after day. A heavy solemnness hit my heart with a thud remembering that he had died just a week prior. I braced the edge of the kitchen counter with my eyes closed to take a moment to breathe. I still couldn’t believe it. It just felt like he was on another business trip and would arrive home any minute.
Through my daze I heard my aunt coughing down the stairs, making her way into the kitchen. I tried to compose myself as quickly as I could and reminding myself that I wasn’t the one who should be so upset by this. I was the one who needed to be strong. I needed to be strong for her, like I promised my uncle. I turned around just in time to see her enter the field of decaying beauty. She walked in, ignoring the death that stood at her feet, and stood next to me looking out into the backyard through that damned window. The silence was thick and seeped out of every corner until it broke with an aching sigh followed by silent sniffles and heaves that my aunt let out. I wanted to give her words of comfort, but it was hard for me to say anything. I felt like the silence was hers to keep and break only at her will. My heart ached for her. She had only been married to the love of her life for a meager five years. Why did things like this have to happen? I could never understand why good people die so prematurely.
0 Comments
|