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“Oh? What?” She seemed surprised.
“You’re spacing out almost as bad as me, and you’ve got a hand in your hair.” Once I pointed it out her hands went back to her lap.
“Yeah,” she said a little guiltily. “I didn’t think it would be a problem, but the last funeral I went to was similar. Lots of relatives I barely knew asking how I was. I was just thinking about it.”
I tried to get her to stay home for this specific reason. The last funeral she went to had to be when her parents had died. I knew firsthand how tricky memories could be, how they could hurt even years later.
“But I couldn’t say much to my relatives either,” she admitted, looking out the car window. “I was too young. I didn’t know my parents. I wonder what life would’ve been like if I had?” She turned back and frowned. “I’m being silly now. No use thinking about that. We’re here aren’t we?” She smiled slightly, brightening up considerably.
“We’re here.”
***
Mrs. Tupp sat back in her chair. “You are so strong Taylor.”
She interrupted my story. I wasn’t sure how to take the compliment.
“I mean it,” she told my shock. “You have grown so much. Do you remember our first session?”
I didn’t get embarrassed easily but thinking about that I did feel my cheeks grow hot. “Yes. I remember.”
“I called Mr. Tupp as soon as you stormed out to tell him I’d just had my shortest session ever.”
I was nervous. I had never told anyone what had happened to me before and I knew I would have to. Mrs. Tupp asked me how I felt and then I left the room. The session lasted a total of five minutes. I slowly eased into the idea of telling Mrs. Tupp what had happened. Five sessions in I told her everything. It was freeing, but it was only the first step.
“I bring it up, only because look at you now. I know I say it all the time, but I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah,” was all I could say in response. If I said anything else, I knew tears would fall.
“Sorry for interrupting, where were you?” She asked.
“We made it to the grave site. I didn’t go to the actual ceremony and the lowering into the ground or the covering with dirt. I waited in the car with Lydia until I thought most people would have left and then we walked together to her grave.”
***
We approached her grave with heavy footsteps. No one was left standing around, we were alone. There were several bunches of flowers surrounding the stone. The headstone was made of cool, black marble in the shape of a pillar. It towered over the other stones in the plot. The golden letters spelling ‘Hana Hirano’ and her birth and death date shone out from the darkness around them.
“Should I say something?” I asked Lydia but I knew there wasn’t a real answer she could give me.
“I’ll say something.” Lydia moved in front of me, like she was still shielding me from Hana. She took a deep breath. “I will not tell my child about you. You will hurt no one else.” She stepped back again and took my gloved hand in hers.
“I’m going to be the best father I can be,” I said to the stone. It felt ridiculous and maybe pointless. I didn’t think she could hear me. Besides, I had already told her how I felt to her face. This was more a promise to me. And it was a promise to Lydia and the life growing inside her as we stood there.
I thought for a moment longer but realized I had nothing more to say. “Let’s go.” I would never come back here.
As we drove home the clouds covering the December sky opened up and let down snow in huge, drifting flakes.
“It’s beautiful,” Lydia said.
I watched the flakes flutter on our windshield and melt at the touch while others flitted into the corners and began to build up. I never appreciated stuff like this before. My thoughts were filled with snowman building and sledding. I wasn’t allowed to do things like that when I was a child. I had always watched the snow from the penthouse apartment’s huge windows, my nose pressed against the glass, wishing I could go play. Hana would yell at me for smudging up the windows.
I then thought about bundling my child up and making sure to carefully wrap a scarf around their neck. Then I’d take them outside and lift them up so they could taste the first of the snowfall on their tongue. I could hear Lydia laughing, a laugh of pure joy, behind us in this vision. I could barely wait.
***
“Taylor,” Mrs. Tupp began once I finished my story. “I think you’re ready to graduate.”
“I am?” I knew that it was coming, but I didn’t think it would be now.
