Letters and Lilies

Day 365

December 20th, 2020. Exactly a year since his heart broke. He still heard Anna's voice calling to him when he walked in the front door from work, even though her fiery spirit had not roamed the halls in a long time, and the cries of the baby was all he heard these days. He wondered if she too was crying for Anna. He still picked up Anna's sweet scent on her side of the bed, even though the sheets had been washed countless times. He still remembered the way her soft skin felt when she hugged him, even though she had been absent from his arms for as long as he could remember. It had now been a whole year and yet he still felt the hole in his life that appeared after she died. His daughter had taken up that space in his heart, as Lily was all he had left of her. They had agreed to call their baby Grace, after his own mother, but Grace Hamilton was still alive, Anna wasn't. He thought it would be more fitting to call their daughter Lily, after Anna's favourite flowers. He reminisced to the conversations he had shared with her, talking about the wedding they were planning to have, and how lilies would be placed in vases on every table at the dinner party. The wedding never happened and they never had the chance to share the same last name, but he made sure to always have a vase of lilies on their dinner table. His mind wandered through all the good memories they shared together, and he soon found himself replaying her final moments over and over again. "Love is such a fragile thing, my dear. Maybe I don't know what love is, but for all its worth, when I hear the word I think of you". The last words she spoke before her hand slipped from his and her heart stopped beating. These words echoed in and out of his mind, making him smile. Before he knew it, the pen was in his hand again, and the three hundred and sixty fifth letter was added to the pile.

Dear Anna

Everything is going surprisingly well, and I want to tell you about it because smiling feels natural again. It feels the same way it used to when you were around.

I know I've said it before, but this truly will be the last of the many letters that I have written to you since you died. Maybe I'm crazy, but I've been keeping all the words hidden within envelopes, hoping the ink could somehow hold the pain that my heart cannot. I guess this is my way of remembering you, and finishing the goodbye that went unfinished last December.

I have learnt to make peace with my past, and I know now that love does not belong to me, the same way that time does not belong to me. The same way that the air moving in and out of my lungs is only there to keep my heart beating for a short period of time in between birth and death. I still miss you terribly, but I am happy to tell you that I am moving on. I am able to go outside again and stop finding pieces of you in places I didn't even know you'd been.

I've learnt to make peace with my past, and now I'm ready to focus on the future. Lily is growing up so fast, and everyday she reminds me more and more of her mother. She said her first word just the other day. Grandma Grace was shocked at what she said, but I wasn't surprised. Her first word was 'mama'. I talk to her all the time, but I feel as if she truly listens when I tell her stories about you.  It's her first birthday today as well, and I got help from your mother in baking your famous cake recipe. There are lilies on the table as always, and six places set - for myself, Lily, my mother, and both of your parents - to celebrate her first year on earth. The other place, you ask? Well, I always leave an seat empty for you, my dear.

Your promise for forever is still wrapped tight around my heart. Tangled in my veins like ivy crawling up the side of our beautiful stone house. I always thought that we'd be together forever, but I guess that heartbreak has always known where to find me. You left when I needed you to stay, and yet I love you all the same. That is how I know I'm going to be okay. This is how I know that I can carry on without you.

Even after a year it still feels as if there are pieces of broken heart littered around me. These sharp glass like pieces are embedded into my skin, still doing all they can to leave me afraid of the future. But darling, if you were to come back to me, I know you would remove each one, until my scars were nothing more than a fear that no longer mattered. And when you'd done this, You would collect all the pieces, and fit them carefully back together so our hearts could beat for each other once again. You'd whisper to me 'Remember my love, gorgeous mosaics are made from broken glass'.

I look back to your last living moments and I smile more. You told me that you loved me, and that I would always be your sun. You said that if if the roles were reversed, and if I were on my death bed in front of you, it wouldn't be dissimilar to a sunset, alike the ones we used to watch from the top of the hill. You said that even if your sun was to set and I would die in place of you, that you would not be afraid of the dark, and therefore I shouldn't be either. You told me that even you knew that it is not possible to stop the setting of the sun, but you would pick yourself up quickly and learn to spend your time in the fading light. You would spend your last moments with me basking in my summers sun.

I have written you so many letters, my darling. Addressed them all to your favourite places even though I know you will never visit them again. I will never send them there, in fear that your friends and family will think I'm crazy. I will however keep them in the top drawer of my bedside table, and press them to my lips when I miss you. Maybe when our daughter is all grown up into a fine young woman alike your were, Ill let her read them all. This shall be my final letter. One to tell you that I'm moving on. But who am I kidding, I wish I had told you all of this before you bid this earth goodbye. You will never be able to read these letters, and I will never be able to see the look in your eyes as you read them. Although I'm not religious, I have faith that you have made your way up into the clouds and are living among other beautiful souls like your own.

If there is a heaven, you shall be there. And me? The feeling I get when memories of us come flooding back - of us holding hands under moonlit skies; of dancing in the rain in the middle of a storm - I feel you next to me as if you had never left. 

And that is heaven enough for me.

Love Robert Hamilton