All Over Again

| Chapter Fifty-Five |

Days had a funny way of morphing into weeks, and weeks didn't waste any time in diving straight into months. The last of the snowfalls and the coming of rain were much more common by the middle of March as Spring reared her pollinated head the closer they grew to April. The days were longer and the nights inevitably shorter, which left more time to enjoy the finality of Oklahoma days.

Ruth was feeling the bittersweet mixture of melancholy and excitement after buying her flight to New York alongside Emily. The both of them were currently in a coffee shop on main street going over their college information with their housing and scholarship information to make sure everything looked good.

Emily, picking off at the corner of her donut, finally sat away from the computer with satisfaction skimming clear across her face. "There."

Ruth, her eyes still stuck on her flight receipt information, mumbled out a relieved, "Done."

"I'm so glad we got all of that over with," Emily muttered. Her manicured fingernails drummed to an unknown beat on the table, and Ruth finally looked up to catch her gaze. "How are you feeling?"

Ruth didn't really know how to answer that. She was happy that her plane ticket was paid for, that she signed up for their orientation, and that her scholarship looked great for being NYU, but it didn't take away the disheartening feeling of knowing she was going to leave her home. Oklahoma had become what California had never felt like to her. Everything about the four seasons, the mountains, the heritage, the people of the state had made her feel like she belonged somewhere. She'd fallen in love, she was close to her uncle, she loved her cousins, and she couldn't imagine going back to such a fast-paced environment.

But she was happy to try something new. It was what she wanted for so long, so she didn't want to give up her dream just yet. Everyone respected her decision, and since her parents were flying out to Oklahoma to help her and Emily with the move to New York, she was okay. Her stomach knotted at the thought of being in her mother's presence again, but she still missed her and her father enough to deal with it.

"I feel . . . as good as I could be feeling," Ruth finally admitted, a guilty smile touching her lips. It was true. She felt as good as one could feel in her situation.

"Good," Emily smiled, drawing out a warmth from Ruth's belly naturally. "I know it's a hard time for you, but I want you to know I'm always here for you."

"Thank you," Ruth said, honestly as she closed her laptop. Who knew buying a flight would take so much out of you?

"Anytime. Also, since we're done with our school stuff, I was wondering if you were up to doing something else today?" Emily asked, hope coloring her voice. "Maybe catch a movie or get some lunch at Swadley's? It's early enough."

Though the thought of getting some delicious BBQ lunch at Swadley's sounded more than mouthwatering, there was something she had to take care of that day instead. She hadn't been to see her grandfather in awhile, and there was a letter she had to get off her chest. A letter to the person who made her Oklahoma move the greatest decision she had ever made in her life.

So, instead of agreeing to getting some lunch, Ruth gave her a guilty smile. "Sorry Em, buy I have to head out, actually. I haven't seen my grandpa's grave in a few months so I'm due for a visit."

Though Emily's face fell at first, she was quick to brush off the rejection. "Oh, right! Yeah of course. I completely understand."

Well, that wasn't awkward at all.

"Thanks for understanding. Maybe next weekend, though!" Ruth said, shoving her laptop into her backpack.

"Of course," Emily smiled easily. "See you at school."

"See you," she agreed. She was quick to gather her things, offered one more little grin, and then left the coffee shop.

*****

The cemetery was quieter without her two rowdy cousins to keep her company and distract her mind.

Graveyards were usually peaceful, but there was something calmingly wonderful about that particular one. Indigenous family members were scattered throughout different plots with fake flowers lying at the heart of their loved one's tombstone and little trinkets to keep their spirits alive. There weren't many Indigenous cemeteries anymore, so it still blew her mind that it was still around.

The closer Ruth grew to her grandfather's grave, the more her heart swelled in her heavy chest. The flower that she had planted beside him had bloomed beautifully in the way of spring, her petals brilliant in a cream soda orange to an ombre of white around the outside of the petals. Her eyes grew wet already and she knew she was seconds away from weeping. To see something so beautiful beside something so still and certain with her grandfather's name engraved over the stone, it killed her.

Ruth wanted so badly to cry, but she promised herself she'd talk to him first. She just wished time would work faster to heal her wound, though she blatantly knew that some wounds were always going to be there. Time didn't heal loss; it couldn't. She had to adjust her life around it, to find her own way to continue to live as if that bump in her life hadn't stopped her heart from beating.

As if losing someone didn't utterly destroy a person and leave them in a flood of tears almost every time they thought of that person. It hadn't been long since she lost him, she supposed, but hell the pain was excruciating.

A part of her soul, her blood was laying peacefully below all that dirt. And the pain of such a thought was the worst thing imaginable.

"Amafo, I-I wrote you a letter," she sniffled, her throat making a strange choking sound. The white sheet of paper burned a hold in her pocket now, with the wisps of wrinkled and folded flames withered beyond recognition. Words that she had memorized were now lost on her tongue. "I wrote you a letter that I h-had memorized and now I-now I—"

She swallowed thickly. "And now I have completely forgotten everything."

Ruth reached a shaky hand into her front pocket and pulled out a wrinkled paper that was hastily ripped out of a notebook. The frillies were still attached along the inner edge, but she supposed that part didn't matter. Only the letter's contents did.

"Amafo," she started, her throat closing. "There's so much I want to say, but don't know how to. This wonderful life I made for myself wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for you. I only came to Oklahoma to develop the grandparent relationship I always wanted from you, and to lose you before we got the chance. I just . . . you may be gone, but you brought Raffo to me when you knew you couldn't stay."

Her fingers gripped the paper even harder. "I don't know where I'd be right now if it wasn't for Raffo, and I-I wanted to thank you for bringing him to me. He pushes me to do everything I'm too hesitant to follow through with on my own. And though I'm so, so grateful you didn't leave me alone, I don't think anything could have prepared me for you leaving. Time can't heal me, and I think I finally accepted that. Grief broke me, and that's okay. I'm not supposed to be the same person I was before and I never want to be. It kills me that there's a life after you, but I know with every breath I breathe, I carry you with me."

"I love you. And even when I move to New York, I'll love you there too. You brought me here, and I didn't think it would be right to leave without thanking you and telling you how grateful I was to have you as my grandfather. Just . . . thank you."

Ruth stuffed the crumbled letter back into her pocket and bent down low enough to throw her arms around his tombstone. Her shoulders shook as sobs ripped from her lips, her throat raw with an ache that stirred those beneath the ground. An affectionate breeze pushes her curls away from her drenched cheeks, pushing them further off her cheeks as if someone didn't like them on her skin at all. She closed her eyes, letting the grief loom over her shaking shoulders and bear down on her heart.

"I love you. I hope you know that," Ruth whispered to the wind. The wind ruffled her curls again and smoothed the fine hairs away from her face.

And for another moment, she soaked in the love she so desperately needed from the person who meant so much to her.

*****

notes: translation (from choctaw to english)

♡ amafo - grandfather