Written on the Stars

Epilogue

-Five years later-

The winter sky was pure white with small specks of soft snow. It was emotionless and still but the word continued to move, yet it never moved or changed. 

The fog covered the skies, and the only light was the car's headlights that beamed through the mist. Every breath I breathed was a small puff of smoke, escaping my lips and into the sky. The little snowflakes gently settled on my hair, melting soon after. 

I slightly smiled when one landed on the tip of my nose and melted, leaving my nose cold. I looked back down at the small footprints in front of me. I quickly followed the trail of them to my son who ran swiftly on the sidewalk.

I heard a laugh from him once he looked back at me and shooted down the sidewalks, so I don't catch him. I jogged to catch up with Adrian, and he pouted in annoyance.

In his right hand, he grasped many letters with his red mitten, tightly, so they aren't wettened. His little arms stuck out due to the bulky winter coat that I made him wear, his smile hidden under his green scarf, and his cheeks bright red.

"Hurry," He ran off after panting a bit," I don't want to be late!" He shouted as he ran.

I chuckled at the innocence that he seem to be gifted and paced up to him. He stood in front of the blue mailbox, trying to reach up and shove his letters in. Adrian stood on his tiptoes and stuck his arm in the air. 

"Mom!"He howled. I grabbed his waist and lifted him up so he could finally deliver his letters.

Most of the precious letters that he held will never deliver as he hoped. They didn't have a destination on it besides 'Dad' written in crayon and scribbled on drawing that he wished to place a smile on Gilbert's face. 

He wrote a letter every day, writing about his day and drawing pictures of our small family. We delivered them on Gilbert's birthday, Gilbert's death day, our anniversary, and Christmas. 

Today was January 18, Gilbert's birthday, so, Adrian woke me up early to give him to letters he made. After we had eaten breakfast, we headed out with Adrian holding the notes, and he wanted to get a balloon for him to celebrate. 

He never letted me see the letters; it was his way of having a one-sided conversation with his dad who he never met, yet he loved him more than anything. 

The letters fell into the box, and Adrian shoved his hand into the slot, moving it around. 

"What are you doing?" I giggled and watched his face twist in confusion. 

"Looking for the letters dad gave me," He mumbled, concentred in finding the letters.  

I stopped laughing, and I couldn't see his face,"Honey," I started,

"Dad can't write to you because he's in heaven, they don't have a mailbox there but believe me He does write to you every day,"

"But," He frowned and stopped moving his arm,"He can still read my letters right?" I can tell that he was on the verge of tears, he was always an emotion child.

"Yes and he loves them and he even put your drawing on his wall," I smiled and made sure no tears escaped my eyes. 

He smiled and wiped his eyes,"What does his room look like?" 

"I'm not sure, but his wall is filled with your pictures and all your letters are in a special draw that no one else can see."

Adrian's face lite up, and I settled him on the ground.

"Now, we have to buy him a balloon!"

___

"How about this one?" The worker asked, showing him a plain balloon with no picture.