𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗡 🔞 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝟮

86. Karma

⬆️⬆️⬆️ Second update in a day, make sure you've read the previous chapter before ☺️ ⬆️⬆️⬆️

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

If you're triggered by grief/memories of lost ones, please don't bother reading the chapter below - message me and I'll sum it up for you! 

2 PM | Micha

"This way," my mother showed the path as I was trying to catch up behind her.

It was the first time she spoke to me ever since we left the house. The drive until the Buddhist cemetery had been oddly silent.

Contrary to what she thought, it was empty on this sunny Christmas day. My mother probably didn't realize how these two were not really connected.

When my father decided to stop battling against the disease and embrace his last months with us, he became very religious. He had always called himself a Buddhist but never really practiced any rituals or celebrated any holidays - or, at least, I never saw him do so in the twenty-three years we shared.

I felt a knot tightening in my stomach as we arrived in front of his grave.

Deep inside, I understood why my father had wanted to believe strongly in Samsara or reincarnation in the last months of his life.

I, too, wanted to imagine him anywhere but here.

I wanted to imagine him the flowers, the trees, the ocean, the wind, the butterflies, the smiles.

Anywhere.

Anywhere but between the cold grey stones of this grave.

"So dusty..." my mother pestered around the grave, already busy moving around the flowers on it.

But it wasn't dusty at all.

It was sparkling clean. It was the first thing I noticed when we arrived.

The flowers on it were intact, every corner was perfectly wiped from dust and dead leaves.

A great teacher, we could read on one of the memorial plaques.

My best friend, read another one.

Loving father and husband.

I could feel my eyes stinging now.

It had only been a bit more than a year.

"Do you come here often?" I asked my mother, lifting back up one of the flower pots that had fallen.

"Oh..." her eyes fluttered in the emptiness. "Here and there... Whenever..." she cleared her throat. "I need a moment... with him."

She sniffed, turning her back to me.

I went to sit down on the little bench in the alley right in front it.

It seemed like she was having one of these moments.

So I let her be with him.

I watched her move around the flowers, the plaques, and plant pots, muttering in between her lips.

My mom was the introverted one in their relationship. While my father was the sunshine, the extrovert, the funny, easy-going one... She was the quiet, reserved, thoughtful one.