A Journey Through Love and Loss

Memorial

Ruth's POV

The flight back to the Philippines was somber. The atmosphere was thick with grief, a heavy silence hanging over us. We moved through the airport in a daze, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

Tyler led the way, nakahawak ng mahigpit si Tyrone sa kamay niya. Mark, Caleb, Lucas, Secretary KC, and I followed, our steps heavy with the weight of our loss.

As we approached the gate, I took a moment to look around the New York airport one last time. Memories of our time here with Avery flooded back, her laughter, her hope, the way she fought so bravely against her illness. It was hard to believe that just days ago, we were all filled with optimism.

Nung makapasok na kami sa loob ng eroplano, the silence continued. Tyler stared out the window, his face a mask of pain. Mark, Caleb, and Lucas exchanged worried glances but said nothing. They didn't know how to comfort him, and honestly, ako man hindi ko alam kung paano pagagaanin ang loob niya.

Tyrone sat beside me, unusually quiet, He was just staring at the necklace in his hand.

"Whose necklace is that?" I asked softly, trying to distract him. Napansin ko na hugis puso ang pendant nito.

Tyrone looked up at me, his eyes filled with sadness. "Mommy told me to give this to Daddy," he whispered. "She said to keep it safe until the last day of her... of her..."

I nodded, tears pricking at my eyes. "Keep it safe, okay? When the time comes, you can give it to him."

Tyrone nodded solemnly and put the necklace back in his pocket. He rested his head against my arm, and I gently stroked his hair, feeling a pang of sorrow for the little boy who had lost so much.

Matalino si Tyrone at alam kong naiintindihan niya ang sitwasyon ngayon. Nakakalungkot lang na dalawang beses na niya ito nasaksihan. Una, sa mga tunay niyang mga magulang, at ngayon naman sa Mommy Avery niya.

The plane taxied down the runway and soon we were airborne. Tyrone pressed his hands and face against the window, peering out at the receding cityscape. "I'm gonna miss our memories here, mommy," he said softly, his voice filled with heartbreak.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I watched him. I suddenly glanced at Tyler and saw him looking at Tyrone, his eyes filled with pain. His grief was palpable, but there was also a fierce determination there, a promise to be strong for their son.

As the plane continued its journey, I let my mind drift back to our days in New York. Avery had been so hopeful, so full of life despite everything. We had shared so many moments of joy and laughter. Now, those memories felt like fragile treasures, each one more precious than the last.

The flight attendants moved quietly through the cabin, offering drinks and snacks, but none of us were in the mood. We were all lost in our own thoughts, the silence punctuated only by the hum of the engines.

Tyrone eventually fell asleep, his head resting on my shoulder. I looked down at his peaceful face, feeling a deep sense of responsibility. I would do everything I could to help him through this, to be there for him and Tyler as we navigated this new, painful reality.

As we flew over the ocean, I whispered a silent promise to Avery. I would take care of her family, I would keep her memory alive, and I would never forget the strength and love she had shown us all.

The plane's lights dimmed as night fell, casting a soft glow over the cabin. I closed my eyes and let the hum of the engines lull me into a restless sleep, my heart heavy with sorrow but also with a newfound resolve.

As we landed in the Philippines, the weight of our loss seemed even heavier. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the tarmac as we disembarked from the plane. The air was warm and humid, a stark contrast to the cool, air-conditioned cabin we had just left.