As I arrived at Aunt Marie's house. The change of environment was a welcome reprieve. The air felt so refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot summer day. I took a deep breath, savoring the crispness that surrounded me, rejuvenating my senses and filling me with renewed energy. Aunt Marie's garden was in full bloom, with vibrant flowers dancing in the gentle breeze. It was a peaceful oasis, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees, casting a gentle dappled glow on the path leading to Aunt Marie's front door. The sound of birds chirping and the distant hum of a lawnmower added to the tranquil ambiance, creating a serene backdrop for my visit.
Just as I was soaking in the tranquility, a familiar figure emerged from behind a row of rose bushes. It was Nala. Aunt Marie's mischievous cat. With her sleek black fur and bright green eyes, she exuded an air of curiosity and adventure. She meowed softly as if inviting me to join her on a secret mission.
Unable to resist her charm, I followed Nala as she led me through the garden, her tail swishing playfully. We ventured deeper into the lush foliage, the scent of earth and blossoms filling the air. It was as if the garden held its secrets, waiting to be discovered.
As I was getting settled, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. It was Dexton, my adorable twin brother. with his mischievous grin and sparkling eyes. But this time, something was different. Tears glistened in his eyes, turning that sparkle into a reflection of pain.
Ever since our mother passed away, Dexton had been struggling. He cried himself to sleep for days on end, refusing to eat or drink. It was as if a part of him had shut down, unable to bear the weight of the loss. There were so many unsaid words, so many things he wished he could have told her, you could tell. It felt like I was slowly losing my only brother. If tears could bring Mum back, trust me she would be alive right now. The pain was etched across his face, a constant reminder of the void in our lives. Two nights ago he called me and you could hear nothing but the pain of a mourning son.
I couldn't just stand by and watch my brother slowly lose himself. I knew I had to do something, but the question lingered in my mind: what could I possibly do to mend his broken heart?
I walked closer to him and leaned in for a tight hug; what I could offer at that moment. I wish could do more. Like finding the killer and reaping out his parts slowly while he begs for death that would never come. Or have the powers that could bring the dead back to life and that way save us the stress of going through the whole process of killing a murderer.
As I stepped into the cozy sitting room, a wave of warmth embraced me. Both from the inviting atmosphere and the love that radiated from Aunt Marie. The delightful scent of her cooking filled the air, teasing my senses and awakening the hunger within me. I followed the aromatic trail, leading me straight to the kitchen, where Aunt Marie was bustling about with a radiant smile on her face.
"Anise!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with a mix of joy and sadness. I could see the effort she was making to hide the pain of losing her only sister, my dear mother. It was written all over her. She did not want to burden me with the rollercoaster of emotions she must have been feeling.
"I'm so glad you are here. I've prepared a special meal for you and your brother. Come, sit, and let's catch up" she managed to say.
I settled into a chair at the kitchen table, feeling the anticipation build as Aunt Marie placed a plate in front of me and Dexton. The aroma of her cooking filled my nostrils, making me crave more. As we savored each bite, Aunt Marie and my twin brother began to reminisce about the times we shared with our mother. We laughed at the funny stories, shed tears for the moments we missed, and found solace in the comfort of each other's company. Aunt Marie's eyes sparkled with memories as we shared anecdotes and tidbits of wisdom that my mother had imparted to her. She would be forever missed.
As I sat there, enjoying the delicious meal Aunt Marie had prepared, a wave of unwavering sadness suddenly washed over me. I could not help but feel a pang in my heart as I glanced at my phone, remembering the last text my mother had sent to me before she passed. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read her heartfelt message once again. It was a bittersweet reminder of her love and the void she left behind. Aunt Marie noticed my change in demeanor and immediately came over, offering comforting words and being a shoulder to cry on.
"I know you miss your mum so much. We all do. She was a remarkable woman, and her memory will always be with us." Aunt Marie said to me
Her words were like a soothing balm, offering solace amid my grief. Aunt Marie understood the depth of my sorrow and knew just how to provide support. She sat beside me, holding my hands, as we reminisced about my mother's infectious laughter, her unwavering strength, and the love she had for us.
Time seemed to stand still as we sat there, immersed in our conversation, the clinking of cutlery and the occasional burst of laughter filling the air. Aunt Marie's strength and resilience were evident as she navigated the delicate balance between honoring my mother's memory and finding joy in the present moment.
As the evening wore on, we moved to the living room, where Aunt Marie had set up a photo album filled with cherished memories. We flipped through the pages, relishing in the captured moments of happiness, love, and togetherness. Each photograph held a story, a piece of our family's history that we treasured.
At that moment, I realized that even though my mother was no longer physically with us, her spirit lived on through the memories we shared. Aunt Marie reminded me that it was okay to feel sadness but also to find comfort in the love and support of those around us. Surrounded by the love of family and the echoes of the past, I realized the power of connection and the strength that can be found in shared experiences. Mum will be happy wherever she is. She would be pleased that we are handling her demise the best way we can.