A/N: Snow White, the character, it not in this. 'Snow' refers to the actual white fluffy stuff. I'm not sure what's gotten into me, but I'm having all these angsty Graham's death fells lately. Please review!
From what I had experienced, there were only two kinds of weather that could be had during a funeral. There was the clichéd rain storm in which the Earth, with its dark sky and rain-cloud tears, mourned with you. Then there were the funerals held on sunny days. The sky was bright, birds were chirping, children were playing, and you were reminded that life does go on- with or without you.
For Graham's funeral, it snowed.
I had never experienced this before. Snowing was not a usual funeral weather pattern. It was mystical, magical. In my life, snow had always been a confusing event. It was both hated and loved. It meant no school, snowball fights, snowmen, hot chocolate- it also meant shoveling the driveway and walkway for lazy foster parents, sometimes a parking space if you lived in an apartment building. It meant loud, scary snow plows disturbing a peaceful slumber as they drove by at odd hours, black ice, and adults hastily looking for childcare while they were at work and we were on a snow day.
Snow could be a blessing or a curse, depending how you saw it.
I suppose then, that it was fitting weather for Graham's funeral.
I didn't realize this back then, on that freezing cold December day, but Graham's death was snow- a blessing and a curse, depending on how you looked at it.
It was very clearly a curse, a tragedy. It was a heartbreaking loss, and one I did not recover from easily. It shook my faith, added a whole new layer to my metaphorical walls.
That layer, though, was nothing compared to the many layers he had already torn down.
Graham's death had also been the beginning of the end- the end of the curse. He had broken down barriers in my heart, opened me up to the idea of love and trust. He had freed the sheriff's office from Regina's hold and allowed the savior a position of authority in this town. Had Graham never made me his deputy before dying, I never would have become Sheriff. If I had never become Sheriff, I wouldn't have posed such a huge threat to Regina. If I wasn't such a huge threat to Regina, she never would have tried to poison me. If she never tried to poison me, Henry would have never 'died' and been saved by me; true love's kiss between a mother and son would have never ended the curse, and I would still be a 28 year old orphan in a town of fairytale characters who never age and have no idea who they are.
Graham's death indirectly broke the curse.
A blessing.
It was fitting, then, that it should snow on Graham's funeral. His death, after all, was just like snow.
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