The midday air carried the first hint of summer’s warmth as Sunny knelt beside Kate’s headstone, tracing the engraved words with her fingertips:“Love Never Ends.”Three years had passed since her first terrifying visit to this place, when she’d come alone, heart hammering against her ribs, feeling like an intruder in a sacred space. Now the Anderson family surrounded her — their children laying offerings, Liam standing tall beside her, the morning sun casting long shadows across the trimmed cemetery grass.
“Your turn, Ethan,” Sunny whispered, guiding the toddler’s pudgy hand.
Ethan stepped forward, solemn in the way only two-year-olds can be when they sense the gravity of a moment without understanding it. He placed a crayon drawing beside Maddie’s academic certificate and Hailey’s carefully arranged ceramic butterflies.
“For angel Mommy,” he announced, the words practiced but sincere.
Sunny’s throat tightened. She’d helped him make the drawing last night — stick figures holding hands beneath a yellow sun, his version of family.
Liam stood slightly apart, hands in pockets, watching his children with a mixture of grief and pride etched on his face. Even after all this time, these monthly visits exacted their toll. But something had changed over the years — the crushing weight of loss had transformed into something gentler, a bittersweet ache rather than an open wound.
Sunny stood and moved aside, giving them space. This ritual belonged to them first, to the family that existed before her. But as if reading her thoughts, Liam turned, extending his hand.
“You’re part of this too,” he said softly.
She stepped forward, her fingers lacing through his. Together they stood behind the children, a tableau of past and present intertwined.
“What’s Ethan’s picture say?” Hailey asked, pointing to the scribbled lines at the bottom of the drawing.
“It says ‘We love you always,’” Sunny explained. “Ethan picked the words.”
“Mom would like that,” Maddie said with the serious precision that was so uniquely her.
“Look!” Hailey’s sudden gasp cut through the somber moment. “A butterfly!”
Sure enough, a monarch butterfly with vibrant orange wings had landed on the corner of Kate’s headstone, wings opening and closing slowly as if in greeting.
“It’s a message!” Hailey whispered reverently, her eight-year-old face alight with wonder. “Mom’s saying hello!”
Liam smiled, ruffling her blonde hair. “Maybe she is, Hails.”
Sunny watched the butterfly, thinking of all the times Hailey had insisted the creatures carried messages between worlds. There was something beautiful in the child’s unwavering belief, a reminder that love could bridge even the most impossible distances.
The butterfly took flight, circling once above their heads before disappearing into the blue morning sky. For a moment, no one spoke. The cemetery around them was quiet except for the distant sounds of birds and the soft rustle of leaves.
As they gathered their things to leave, Sunny found herself lingering, looking at Kate’s name carved in stone. Three years ago, she’d come here feeling like an intruder, a replacement, an imposter. She’d left a bracelet as a promise to care for the family. Now, wearing another of Maddie’s beaded creation, she no longer felt like she was taking something that didn’t belong to her.
She was building something new upon a foundation of love that had come before.
“Ready to go home?” Liam asked, Ethan already hoisted onto his shoulders.
Home. Such a simple word for such a complicated blessing.
“Yes,” Sunny said, taking one last look at the adorned grave. “Let’s go home.”
***
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window of Maddie’s new upstairs bedroom, catching dust motes that danced in the golden beams From downstairs came the muffled sounds of Liam playing with Ethan and Hailey shrieking with laughter. Sunny paused in the doorway, watching as Maddie sat cross-legged on her bed, a photo album open before her.
“Hey there,” Sunny said softly. “Can I come in?”
Maddie nodded, making room on the comforter. Sunny settled beside her, peering at the photos. They were familiar now — Kate holding newborn Maddie, Kate teaching a toddling Hailey to walk, Kate and Liam on their wedding day. Alongside them were newer photos: Sunny reading to both girls, the family at the beach, Ethan’s first birthday with cake smeared across his grinning face.
“Chelsea asked me something weird at school yesterday,” Maddie said, running her finger along the edge of a photo.
“What did she ask?”
“She wanted to know if I feel split in half.” Maddie’s voice was matter-of-fact, but her fingers fidgeted with her bracelet — a telltale sign of her discomfort. “Because I have two moms. She said it must be confusing to have a mom in heaven and a mom here.”
