Long Live
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Here I am standing a few feet away from her grave. I still can’t accept how things went but I don’t have any power to bring back the dead to be alive. It was the longest stay I have ever had maybe because right now I finally want to let go of the grudge I’ve held because of her death.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and when I look to see who it was, a beaming woman greeted me.
“Hi!” She said. Her face is like the sunshine, literally glowing.
“Hello.” I greeted back. I know at the back of my mind that I shouldn’t. You see, I still remember what my parents have taught me. The thing ‘Don’t talk to strangers’ but I have nothing to lose anyway.
She offers her hand, “Angel,” and said as she smiles. “It’s short for Angelica.”
I shook her hand. “Abby. Just Abby.” I crossed my arms and glance back at her grave, “So who are you visiting here in the cemetery?” I asked, wondering why she seems so happy. Like problem-free as if this is not a place where the dead belongs.
She pointed a graveyard not too far from whom I am visiting and whispered. “It’s a person who I really know more than anyone else in this world.”
“A woman?” I replied without glancing at her. Funny, how it seems that we are talking with ease. As in, no awkwardness.
“Yep.” She said even popping the ‘p’ at the end.
“How did she die?”
“She gave birth to wonderful child. I know she is happy when she died. She got to hold her daughter for the first and the last time you know.” She said a matter-of-factly.
“How can you say that she is happy when she died?” I asked because that was absurd! She won’t see her daughter grow.
“Abby, it’s because death is something she really is looking forward to. And in order for her daughter to live she must die. That’s why I know she is happy because she died knowing that she had let her daughter to live.”
“Oh.” I nodded not knowing what to say.
It was Angel’s turn to ask. “So who are you visiting here?”
“Just a person who I really know more than anyone else in this world” Borrowing her exact words, I said it while shrugging.
“How did she die?”
I shook my head and sighed. “Mercy killing”
She nodded slowly. “Was she terminally ill?”
“Not really,” Another sigh escaped my mouth. “She was in coma.” I can feel my chest tightens as I speak about her, but it helps to talk with a trusted friend (Yes, I considered Angelica as a trusted friend) about these hard to accommodate feelings.
“Why?”
“She saved her sister, Kelly. Kelly was riding a bicycle; it was actually her first time to ride a bicycle.” As I talk, I can picture the exact scenario at the back of my mind. “Then, Kelly didn’t notice the car coming in her way but her sister did, and she ran towards Kelly and pushed her. Sadly, she was the one who was hit by that car.”
Angel made this ‘mmm’ sound as she nods. Maybe it was also hard for her to digest the story like what it did to mine. Then she spoke, “Do you think she regretted saving Kelly?”
That question left my mouth hanging! Is she nuts?
