Originally posted July 13, 2013
July 13 Prompt: Your hero writes the epitaph for his/her mother’s grave. What does it say?
The sun beamed brightly and not at all too warm. It was the type of day you envision for spring; the perfect day to take the whole family on a picnic in the park. Today was the very aspect of indicating everything opposite of what the day actually was for me. A breeze lifted my long blond hair, carrying about my face almost as if it was trying to block me from the sight before me; to make me forget, even just for a little while.
She had a whole lifetime on this world. Did and said so many a things that I never knew, things that I’ll never get to the chance to learn about her. She played, laughed, cried, loved, danced, got into trouble. All of that I knew, but I didn’t know was where she played who she was with and what they were laughing about. She never taught me how to dance.
She had a lifetime here and I only had but a moment with her, her kindness and voice, her lovingness. I’ll get to experience none of that ever again. I walked slowly forward, reaching out my hand as I went. I placed it upon the stone that would become the only last visual of what will be projected into the world, beautiful and smooth, without a blemish, but soon words would be carved into it. Words that will become her. The only thing left of her.
I’ve put off writing this for longer than I should have. How does one sum up another’s life so easily? How do they fit everything a person was onto just a few short lines? Can it be done? Can I bring myself to write what needs to be written and be satisfied? I doubt it.
How do I let go of this woman who took care of me my whole life, who was there for me through everything? The engraver was staring at me. He was waiting for me to hand over the paper that will forever become the only words still left of my mother. The funeral was tomorrow. Yes, I have put this off for too long.
I didn’t like to cry in front of people. It made the whole room uncomfortable. I know I can’t stand to watch people cry, but as I began to write the epitaph that’s exactly what happened. Somehow I managed and handed the paper over. The man took a swift look over it and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I walked back to my car, the brightness of the day mocking me and I hated it for it.
Mother & Friend
A woman beyond measure,
we are better for have knowing her.
*Note- I would like to invite anybody who is interested to join me on this daily writing adventure and write your own version of this prompt or come up with your own. Happy Writing. 😀 And any feedback you have will be most welcome.