Eunoia | Logan Howlett

04

The next morning, the sun barely peeks over the horizon as Evangeline makes her way to the cemetery. The air is cool and crisp, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. Her footsteps are soft on the dewy grass as she approaches her mother's grave, a bouquet of white lilies clutched in her hand. She pauses in front of the tombstone, her heart aching as she reads the inscription for what must be the thousandth time.

Evangeline kneels down, placing the lilies gently at the base of the tombstone. She runs her fingers over the engraved letters, the cold stone a stark contrast to the warmth of her memories. Tears well up in her eyes, but she blinks them back, determined to hold herself together.

"Hi, Mama," She whispers, her voice trembling.

She takes a deep breath, the morning air filling her lungs, "I met someone. Well, sort of. She reminded me of you. Lonely, kind, but with a lot of pain. I couldn't take her money. I just couldn't."

Evangeline's eyes scan the cemetery, taking in the rows of tombstones. The stillness of the place feels almost sacred, a silent witness to her grief. She looks back at her mother's grave, tears now streaming down her face.

"I miss you so much."

Her voice breaks, and she presses a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

Evangeline's mind drifts back to the last days of her mother's life, the hospital visits, the endless tests and treatments. She remembers holding her mother's hand, promising her that everything would be okay, even though she knew it was a promise she couldn't keep.

"I think about you every day," She continues, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think about all the things you taught me. I try to live by that, Mama. I really do. But sometimes, it feels like the world is too heavy, and I'm just...tired."

Evangeline pulls her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. The wind picks up, and she shivers, but she doesn't move. She needs to be here, to feel close to her mother, even if it's just for a little while.

"I met this man," She says, a small, sad smile playing on her lips, "Logan."

She wipes her tears away, though they keep coming, a relentless flood of grief and longing, "I wish you could meet him. I wish you were here to see all the things I'm doing. To tell me if I'm making the right choices. I need you, Mama. I need your guidance."

Evangeline's thoughts turn to the life she's built, the walls she's erected around herself to keep from feeling too much, too deeply. She thinks about the old woman from yesterday, the loneliness in her eyes, and how it mirrored her own, "I'm trying to be strong, like you always told me to be. But it's so hard without you here. I don't know if I'm doing this right. I don't know if you'd be proud of me."

The morning sun rises higher, casting long shadows over the cemetery. Evangeline stays there, lost in her memories, her heart aching with a grief that never truly fades. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small photograph of her and her mother, taken years ago on a sunny day in the park. She places it gently at the base of the tombstone, her fingers lingering on the image.

"I love you, Mama," She whispers, her voice filled with raw emotion.

She closes her eyes, letting the tears flow freely, her body wracked with sobs. The weight of her grief feels almost unbearable, but she clings to the memories of her mother, the love and warmth that have always been her anchor.

As the sun climbs higher, the cemetery begins to stir with life. Birds chirp in the trees, and the distant hum of the city grows louder. Evangeline knows she needs to leave, to return to the world and the life she's built. But for now, she allows herself this moment of vulnerability, this connection to the woman who gave her life and taught her how to live it.