Gone but still here

Epilogue- 15 years later

I stared at the old clock, barely ticking on the wall. It was March 30, the day of my mother's death 12 years ago. Crystaline tears filled my eyes and I blinked them away, knowing my three year old daughter was in the room, I wouldn't want her to see me like this. I planted the iris's around my mother's grave, a ritual for me on her death day. 

My husband came up behind me without my noticing and slid an arm around my shoulders and I leaned in to him, letting his warmth enclose me and make me feel protected. 

"You don't have to hide your tears," he murmured in my ear, his breath a soft tickle. I let a few tears trickle down my face and continued watching the clock. It was 11:59pm and I reflected on the entire day and my mother, all of the memories that were sacred to me, precious. With a palpable sadness, the clocked ticked to 12:00am and the magic was gone. 

**Hope this was a good ending.**