Meredith's sister

50

3RD POV

It had been years since the day everything changed. Years since she lost her mom, the woman who had been her whole world. But memories, they didn't fade. They lingered, little glimpses of the past appearing at unexpected moments. Sometimes in a song, sometimes in a smell, or a laugh that sounded familiar. Allison could still remember her mother's face, even though it had started to blur with time, the sharp edges softening until only the essence of mom remained.

She was twenty now, standing in front of the small, overgrown garden outside the house where they had lived. The house was still there, but everything had changed. The creak of the wooden floors, the hum of the refrigerator—it was all different without mom in it.

Allison ran a hand through her hair, staring at the rows of flowers that Mia had planted before her illness had taken over. Back then, when her mom was still well, they used to spend hours in the garden together. Mia would kneel down, pointing out the different flowers, the way the colors bloomed in the sunlight, and how the garden was a reflection of life—it started small, but over time, it grew, became something beautiful. That's how Mia had always seen things: the beauty in the small moments, in the way the world could be so full of love, if you let it.

The wind picked up a little, carrying the scent of roses and lavender. Allison closed her eyes for a moment, letting it wash over her. It smelled just like the days when her mother had been healthy. The days when everything had felt safe and simple.

"Mom," she whispered, her voice barely audible, like saying the word out loud would make the memory feel more real. More permanent. "I miss you."

She could feel the weight of the years, the loss that had never really gone away, even as she grew older. It wasn't something you just got over. Not a death like that. Not when it felt like your entire foundation had cracked, and all you had left was the pieces.

It had been hard, growing up without Mia. Even with the love and support of her aunts, Meredith, Amelia, and Maggie, and her other mom, it hadn't been the same. There had always been a hole in her heart that couldn't be filled. No matter how much love she got, it was never enough. It could never replace her mom.

Allison remembered the way Mia had held her, the softness of her arms when she was young, the way she had always made her feel safe. She could still hear Mia's voice, gentle and full of love, telling her that everything would be okay, that the world was a big place full of adventures waiting for her.

Now, Allison was facing the world without her. And the adventure that Mia had promised was still there, but it felt emptier, colder without the one person who had shown her how to live fully. How to love fiercely, how to never give up, even when life didn't make sense.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of her mother's last moments, the quiet hospital room, the sadness in Mia's eyes as she had held her hand and whispered, "Take care of them. Take care of yourself. Be happy." Allison could still hear those words in her head, could still feel the love that had been behind them, even as Mia had let go. Even as she had been slipping away.

She wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her mother had always told her to live with hope, to find the joy in the small things. Allison wasn't sure how to do that sometimes. She wasn't sure how to go on with that missing piece, but she knew her mom would have wanted her to keep going.

"I'll make you proud, Mom," she whispered to the wind, letting the words carry away. "I'll keep living. For you."

She stood there for a while, letting the memories wash over her, letting herself feel the grief, but also the love that came with it. The love that Mia had left her with.

The garden that Mia had once cared for now stood as a reminder of her life, of the legacy she had left behind. And for all the pain it caused, it was also a place of healing. A place where Allison could remember the good, the laughter, the joy.

She took one last look at the garden, feeling her mother's presence in the breeze, in the flowers that had grown despite everything. She wasn't gone, not really. Mia was with her, in every part of who she was, in the way she carried herself, in the way she still believed in love, in hope, in the beauty of life, even when it didn't make sense.

As she turned to leave, she knew that the journey was far from over. Life had a way of moving on, whether you were ready for it or not. But she also knew she had the strength to face it. The strength her mother had instilled in her. And that was enough.

"Love you, Mom," she said one last time, her voice steady, but filled with love. "I'll keep going."